Breaking Point
by Emmithar
Summary: -First story in 'Boundaries of Brotherhood' series- Robin had once said that everyone breaks, but never before had seen it happen. When Robin is injured, and taken captive by Gisborne, he will start to learn how true his own words are.
1. Chapter 1

**Breaking Point**

**By: **Emmithar

**Ratining: **T

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my imagination J

**Summary: **Robin had once said that everyone breaks, but never before had seen it happen. When Robin is injured, and taken captive by Gisborne, he will start to learn how true his own words are. Will Much and his men be able to save Robin before he reaches his own breaking point?

**A/N: **This take place after Season One, and is A/U in a sense. I missed all of season two (I didn't even know they had a season two until I heard about season three!) so I'm pretending that it didn't even happen. I got this idea from the episode where Robin was trying discover the location of the ledger for the black powder and stated that 'everyone breaks'. I'm not an expert on any of this really, so if I have any facts wrong please let me know so that I can change them, thanks!

* * *

**Chapter One: **Captive

It was one of those feelings; the kinds that were small and insignificant, that you knew in the deepest pit of your heart wasn't true, and yet it continually nagged at you in the back of your mind. It was never present unless you had nothing to think about and suddenly it would be all but too clear for you to ignore. They would continually eat away at you; gnaw at your conscience, batter your mind until you gave in. And it was these thoughts, that Robin knew, shouldn't be ignored.

He let out a soft sigh as he shifted, leaning against a tree. His cape was pulled about him to stave away the night's chill, his bow resting easily in his lap, held securely in his fingers. Robin didn't need to look to see the rest of his men were sound asleep; as they should be. The winter season was closing in, the cold seeming to sap their strength in anything they seemed to do. Robin was exhausted himself, but his wandering mind would not let him sleep.

He pressed a hand against his head as he closed his eyes, as if trying to chase the lingering thought away. But it only seemed to fuel it on. Grumbling slightly Robin pushed himself to his feet, making his way around the slowly dying fire. Sleep, he knew, would not come tonight, nor would peace come anytime soon unless he saw for himself what he knew to be true.

Much was sleeping soundly, nestled deep into one of the bedrolls a few paces away from the fire. A basket, half full of dried berries, sat up near one of his outstretched hands, as though waiting to be devoured should the man wake up. Robin let out a small smile as he knelt down next to him, hovering over him so that he could keep his voice low, and yet still depend on the other man hearing him.

However Much barely stirred when Robin first called his name, mumbling something that was hardly coherent as he continued sleeping. Waiting for a moment Robin tried again, and then a third time with little more than the same effect. Sitting back on his haunches Robin rubbed his face tiredly, letting out a soft groan.

He hated to travel alone, and yet he knew Much would be the only one willing to follow him without any questions, or waking the rest of the camp as well. In the pit of his heart Robin knew he should wait till morning, send the camp one way, and take Much back with him and meet up with the others later. And yet he was anxious. He needed to see…needed to be sure.

Letting out a nod Robin turned to his long time friend, smiling briefly. "Sleep well my friend. I'll be back by morning."

* * *

There was no way that Marian would be there. Robin and the others had seen her off nearly a month ago. After fleeing Gibson, and the wedding, Robin knew that Marian would not be safe in Locksley anymore. It wouldn't be long before Gibson would come calling, either to woo her once again, or to destroy her once and for all. The only difficultly lie in convincing her of that fact.

But he hadn't needed to. Marian already had her own will to set out, to disappear essentially. There had been too many close calls, and she knew her time of safety had run out. Gibson would no longer trust her, and she could no longer count on his softened heart to protect her from the grasping hands of the Sheriff. Where she would go was up to her; a secret she would not even divulge to Robin.

Facing the fact that he may never see her again was difficult. There was no doubt in his mind that he loved her, and his foolish heart held strong with the fact that she too still held a deep emotion for him in return. Robin doubted she would ever say so, but it was steadiness and almost mysterious manner that kept him so intrigued. More than anything, he knew he could not keep Marian in such danger through his own selfish desires. The day he watched her leave was the same day that part of his heart had died.

For the past week however, troubling thoughts had seeped into his mind. There were times he had been certain that he had heard Marian's cries. He would wake up, eyes searching in the darkness, finding nothing, and hearing only the quiet calls of the creatures that roamed the nights. Reality, however, was not enough to reassure him. He needed to see with his own eyes in order for his heart to believe. Robin needed to know for certain that Marian had not returned. Surely she wouldn't be so careless…would she?

Time had passed, and the moon had moved from the edge of the trees to the middle of the sky, shining down with an eerie glow as he pressed on. He would have to hurry if he wished to return to his men by morning. True enough they would not worry deeply if he was not, for more than once had he left in the midst of the night without anyone's knowledge. They would wait until his return, whether it be by midday or even later in that evening. What Robin did not want to face was the barrage of questions that would come his way. Surely none of his men would understand, and he would too embarrassed to admit his foolish worries.

Foolish wasn't a strong enough word; at least he had thought, until he heard the cries. Nearly at the edge of the woods he rushed forward, pressing against the trees as he peered out in the darkness. He knew her house by sight, and by his heart, but what he saw now sickened him. The beauty of which he had grown up with, the house, in which he had first met Marian, was devoured in flames. The wavering glow lit the area around, chasing away the darkness as the fire continued to burn.

The screams came again, Robin's gaze being pulled away from the disaster in time to see men and women racing through the streets in fear. Men on horseback raced behind, bows drawn and swords flashing as they gained on them. The strum of the bow, and the slicing of flesh and bone filled the air followed by deathly pain-filled screams as the countless victims fell. The very sight, and sound, sickened him.

These were once his people; still were his people, even if only by heart. He had an oath, a promise kept by himself, to protect them. Still, it mattered little; anyone, his people or not, no one deserved to be treated in such a manner. Reaching behind him, Robin grabbed an arrow and strung his bow. It was his only defense; everything else had been left behind at camp for what was supposed to be a simple trip. Sighting in, he paused, and then released.

The arrow flew true, hitting his first target straight on. The mounted man fell without so much of a sound and Robin raced in. The horse, frightened by the commotion stood, rearing back and kicking out with strong powerful legs. Legs that the outlaw nearly missed as he ducked by. His bow was ready again as he pushed further into the mass chaos. Around him people were screaming and crying, weaving in and out of fences, and burning houses as strangely clad men pursed them. A second later, there was one less of them, the arrow buried deeply in his chest.

Already Robin was moving, pausing only long enough to find his next target. A woman cornered against a fence let out a cry as a sword swung towards her. It never hit its mark however, and the man fell at her feet as Robin pulled her out of the way. Tears stained her dirty face, her hair hanging in locks and shriveled with ash and soot from the raging fires all around. Robin could barely recognize her, for the trying months had sapped her spirit, and her youth.

"Ann, listen to me."

His voice seemed to coax her out of her trance, and she grabbed hold of him, her tears returning as the cries and screams around her continued. "Robin…thank goodness you're here."

"Listen to me," he scolded her lightly, pulling her to the ground next to the dead man. He needed help in this battle, but he could not leave these people on their own. Short on weapons, and severely outnumbered, Robin was confident that he would be fine as long as he stuck to the shadows. Still, he needed help, whether it be now, or later, it was better than none at all. He could guarantee this woman's safety, and secure his own all at the same time.

"Find my men," he whispered, eyes glancing above the still form as he continued to talk. "follow the path into the forest, keep going straight. They will find you, and let them know that I need them. Take them back here."

He waited, to see if she would argue, but relief flooded him as she nodded sadly, tears falling from her eyes. Robin quickly pulled off the woven band that hung around his neck, looping it over her own head. "This will prove to them that your word is true," he assured her, squeezing her hand. "Hurry, I'll cover you until you are in the forest."

There were many questions he wanted to ask her, many things he wanted to know, but nothing was more important than the present right now. The past could wait, and Robin urged the woman on, bow strung and ready to fire if anyone should take notice of her small form passing through the chaotic battleground. Robin hadn't needed to tell her to stick to the shadows, and he watched until her form passed through the first line of trees before moving.

Two more arrows were gone, as were two more of the strange men. Robin reached back for another, stepping further into the battle as people swarmed around him. It hadn't taken long for his people to realize that he was protecting them, and they craved the promise of safety. His hand, however, closed on empty air, and the feeling of cold dread sunk in his heart as he realized his arrows were all gone.

Hope wasn't completely lost though as Robin ducked an oncoming sword. He had half-tripped, half-fallen over one of the dead men, and his finger wrapped around the hilt of the sword, pulling it free. The next blow to come at him was blocked by a parry of his own.

Robin fought his way to his feet, having more than enough experience from the wars before to know how to defend himself. A parry here, a thrust here, followed by a duck, and turn and a jab, and another man lie bleeding at his feet. There was no rest for him however, as two more were on him shortly.

He was strong, and well-built, able to hold his own during a battle. It was one of the reasons he had done so well in the Holy Lands until that one faithful night. But he couldn't keep going forever, and with no one else to distract the men from their target, Robin soon found himself wearing down. Help was no where near; Robin knew that now would be the best time to retreat, but the men only seemed to grow in numbers. He kept turning, peering out the corner of his eyes for the next coming blow, able to block it moments before impact. A man to his left raised his sword above his head, and Robin moved to counter it, taking his eyes off the other. It was a costly mistake.

The steel cut through his flesh, sliding in between his ribs, sending shearing pain racing through his body. Robin wasn't sure if he cried out or not, and if he did it was only lost among the drowning sound around him. His knees took the brunt impact of his fall, Robin clutching the salvaged sword in his hands as though it was his only source of life as his vision wavered before him.

The sword, red with his own blood was pulled swiftly from his side, raised high above him, and ready to deal the final blow. It never came; with one hand Robin held onto his own sword, the other wrapped around his chest protectively as he tried to breathe around the throbbing pain. The man who seemed so intent on killing him had backed off, sword now resting tip first into the dirt. Robin wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

Waves of nausea spread through his body as he tried to breathe, his breath catching with each painful movement of his severed ribs. His eyes were closed, trying to dispel dizzying feeling. Though the fires raged, and cries continued, it had seemed to become eerily quiet, and Robin forced his eyes open, focusing on the pair of boots that stopped before him. Robin hadn't even had the strength to get up, but there was no need as the newcomer crouched before him.

"Gisborne," Robin whispered his name feverishly, "You're behind this?"

"You seem so surprised," Gisborne cooed softly, "Did you really believe that your actions would go unpunished?"

"These people…have done nothing," Robin breathed, desperately clinging onto the thread of life he still had. It was difficult…with each beat of his racing heart more and more blood seeped out between his fingers. There wasn't much time left.

"Someone has to pay Robin," Gisborne reminded him coldly, "and if the guilty cannot, then the innocent shall."

"The Sheriff…put you up…to this?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied coldly, "Justice will be served one way or another; I was rather hoping for a confession of your whereabouts from one of your loyal subjects, and put an end to your silly group of men, but I think I'll settle for this instead."

"Then you've failed," Robin told him quietly, his teeth clenching at the pain as his world began to grow fuzzy. "For I will be dead before you get a word from me."

"You won't die," Gisborne's voice was cold, without a hint of irony, "but you will wish you had."

Robin hadn't the time to think about what the man had said before the darkness enclosed him altogether, leaving him in a world without pain, and without any hope.

**TBC**


	2. Hidden Away

**Thanks to all who reviewed, loved the comments and feedback, they do mean a lot. Let me know you're still reading and I'll keep posting the best to my abilities. **

**Once again, I own nothing here except original characters. Ask first before taking. Also if anything is off, or incorrect, please point it out to me. I am only human, after all.**

**Oh, and don't forget to enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Two: **Hidden Away

Morning brought a new day, with streams of sunlight peering through the trees and bringing what little warmth it could offer to the group below. Broken logs had been added to the flames and the fire had been brought back to life, flickering in the cold winter morning. Edging closer to its warmth, Much wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, picking up a handful of berries from a nearby bowl. They had long ago been picked, and dried in the sun during the last summer, and made a nearly perfect morning snack.

He held out the bowl towards another member of the small group, a Saracen who sat not too far away. Djaq slowly shook her head, glancing through the clearing at the edge of the trees. Much followed her gaze, catching the glimpse of the covered figures that made their way towards them. There was no reason for alarm, as he recognized Little John's sturdy frame, followed by two other men, Will and Alan.

Much looked on hopefully, but was met with disappointment as Little John shook his head, sitting down on a fallen log. Will came to a stop as well, one leg resting on the stump that was nearby, letting out a sigh. "No sign of him."

Though Robin had taken off more than once without the group, they had always tracked him down, staying out of sight, but taking care to make sure he came to no harm. Whether Robin knew about it or not was a mystery to them still. If he did know, he had not taken the opportunity to inform them. They didn't always find him, and some times Robin would return without their knowledge as well.

Much knew his Master well, but lately the man had changed. With Marian's departure he seemed to be more withdrawn, and his humor fading. Then again it could be the cold of the winter that sapped his energy. That was what Alan had suggested a few weeks back.

It was something Much couldn't deny; he too could feel the pull of the cold tapping into his soul, and there hadn't been as much laughter between any of them. Times were changing, things were becoming more confusing, and it was harder to stay ahead of the Sheriff and his men when you could barely take care of yourself. Hunting was scarce, and the bountiful fruit they had during the warm months were now gone. They would go, sometimes for days, on nothing but dried meat and berries, a meal, but not filling one.

If they ever had to take a stand against any of the Sheriff's men they would more in likely lose. Weakened by the cold, and weighed down by constant hunger, they would stand no chance against an army that was well rested, and well fed. That was why Robin had chosen to move their camps more often. They stayed only in open clearings, such as they were now. The last thing Robin had wanted was to be trapped in a cave, or at the base of a hill. Though the geography of the land could sometimes save them, Robin had been confident that it would only hurt them now.

The men stayed there for sometime, regaining some of their strength, and eating some stale bread and dried fruit before heading out again. This would continue for the better part of the day until they found Robin, or until his Master returned. Much stayed at the came, along with Djaq and tended the fire, finishing up the bowl of berries much to his own dismay in realizing that he was still hungry.

Reluctantly Much shrugged out of the blanket that was providing him the meager warmth, and grabbed his bow, heading out of the clearing. He assumed it would be some time before Robin did return, and in the meanwhile, he wasn't going to let himself go hungry.

* * *

The bitter cold and the looming darkness were the first things to greet him when he opened his eyes. Next was the sharp pain in his side. Flinching he tried to pulled back, surprised to find that he was bound; his hands were tied together around his wrists with a thick rope that coursed around his waist, securing his arms to his body in front of him. A hand returned to rest on his forearm, grasping him gently but firmly. The situation caused him hiss as another sharp pain raced through his side.

"It is going to hurt, but it needs to be cleaned."

It was as though Robin had just realized he was not alone. An older woman knelt by his side, still holding his arm with one hand, a bloody cloth in another. Taking a breath he was able to force himself to stay still as she pressed it against his bleeding wound. His side felt as though it was on fire, and his mind raced to fill in the gaps that were residing his mind.

"Where am I?"

"Its best if you do not know," the strange woman answered, dipping the dirtied rag back into the bucket at her feet.

Robin held a looming suspicion, for he had been here more than once. The musty odor hung in the air like a thick fog, and torches in the distance barely lit the darkened hallways. He was in the dungeons, presumably back at Nottingham. It gave him minimal hope…once his men discovered his disappearance it was here that they would head in search of him.

Still was the fear and worry of what lie ahead. Gisborne had seemed unusually cold when he had spoken earlier. There was no love lost between the two; Robin knew that Gisborne would be ecstatic to learn of his death; so the question remained, why had Gisborne allowed him to live?

His mind was drawn away from his thoughts as the woman began to bind his wound. It was apparent she had already stitched it up some time ago for he could feel the bandages scratching against them. It was this that first got him to thinking.

"How long have I been here?"

"Since the night before," she answered quietly, securing the last of the bandages around his chest. "You've been touch and go since then. You must be important; they really wanted to keep you alive."

"They?" Robin echoed. So, someone other than Gisborne wanted him here. His first thought was of the Sherriff, but Robin couldn't think of much reason to why that would be so. There was little Vaysey could gain from him being alive; as far as Robin was concerned, the Sherriff just wanted him dead.

"Here lad, drink some of this."

The flask was pressed to his lips and he drank without question, knowing without doubt that he could trust this strange woman. The warm water was a blessing to his dry throat, and he drank greedily, mournful to see it vanish as she pulled back. He could easily tell that he was beyond thirsty, and hungry as his stomach began to gurgle as the water settled in.

"I've been here for more than a day?" Robin questioned her, sorting out the information as he tried to forget the hunger and pain that raced through his body. Surely by now his men would have realized he was not going to return.

His thoughts turned to Ann, the one person that could possibly save his life. She held the key, the information his men needed. It was a good call on his part to send her, but had she made it? Robin could see in his mind her retreating form disappearing into the forest. Yes…she made it…she had to.

Or was it only hope? Robin shook his head. He was losing himself, his courage. If he lost that, than all else would be lost as well. His men would come; they would not abandon him. More in likely Much was already planning a raid on the castle. The very thought made him smile, but it faded quickly as the pain in side grew. He shifted, groaning as he did so in attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

"Untie me, please," he whispered softly as he heard the strange woman leave. She paused, and Robin opened his eyes to gaze at her, begging with his eyes. He knew he was asking something she could not grant. She was nothing more than a servant doing the work of Master.

"Get some rest; I fear you'll need it soon enough."

Robin knew she was right, but he was fearful of what he was to face when he did wake up. He had no weapons, and with his hands bound as they were, there was little hope in attempting any actually escape, and rescue was not for certain. He needed to wait, needed to think before doing anything. An undeniably difficult task he knew. His head was pounding, and his side throbbing from the recent injury. Though the stitching had saved him, it was as much as curse as a blessing, adding only more pain to the jumbled mixture he was already feeling.

Thinking, was an even harder task, and Robin found himself losing that battle as he succumbed to the darkness around him, fading into a listless sleep.

* * *

Business was as usual inside Nottingham. Morning had long passed into afternoon and the village below was bustling as it always did. From inside the castle Vaysey, the sheriff of Nottingham, watched with little interest as the people moved below. He let out a frown, gloved fingers pressing together as turned away to face his companion.

"What is it exactly that you hope to gain from him?"

Gisborne had found a seat on the other side of the room, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared straight ahead. He seemed hardly content, but instead disturbed deeply inside. He was not necessarily a cold-hearted man; some one call him misguided, others would refer to him as barely human. Whatever the title they gave to him, he seemed unconcerned. He had made the choices in his life, and though some he regretted, he felt certain they would wash away in time. It was, after all, better to be on the side that was winning.

But there were things he could not so easily forget. It hadn't taken much to convince the Sheriff to hold Robin captive. It was more difficult to convince Vaysey to keep him alive; however, it had been done. The one thing Gisborne could always count on was the Sheriff's seemingly joy in causing direct pain. At least in this case.

"He will talk; given encouragement, but it will happen. We shall find his men, and hang them all. Then the forest will be free of the threat."

"You are aware that I could very well dispatch an entire army after his men at this very moment. It wouldn't be difficult to find them," Vaysey commented.

Gisborne nodded. He knew this would come about, and so had been prepared to counter it. "To what cost? Robin and his men have always won those meager battles. They are quick on their feet, and can hide far easier than troops on horseback. They know the lay the land, know how and where to move. Then they have support of countless of men who are willing to take them in without any notice. Numbers mean nothing against intelligence."

"Intelligence? Really Gisborne, I have begun to think you rather fancy Robin and his men. Like now; you can have Robin dead at your own hands, and yet, you prefer to keep him alive. Why is that? Or is it because he's managed to wound you in such a way you wish to return the favor? The loss of Marian, perhaps?"

Gisborne said nothing, but his eyes moved to meet the Sheriff's. It stung more than he wanted to admit, and it was the same thing Vaysey had held over his head since the incident. It wasn't Gisborne's fault that the man didn't understand what love was, and what it could do to the heart. Still there was nothing he could do to explain to Vaysey how it truly felt, and any weakness shown was further distaste to the older man.

"Come now," Vaysey cooed quietly, moving over towards him. "Do you really think torturing him will bring Marian running back?"

"This is not for Marian, it is for his men. Eliminating that threat will bring us closer to ultimate control over England. Robin and his men give the people hope; once the hope is gone, so will be the rebellion."

"It is good to see you so concerned for England's welfare, but Robin will not talk. You're just wasting your time, and giving him a chance to be rescued. Then you'll be in the same place you started. No hood…and no wife."

"He will talk," Gisborne defended himself, moving to his feet. "Robin…will talk. I will make sure of that."

**TBC**


	3. Passing Time

**Chapter Three: Passing Time**

The halls inside Nottingham Castle were quiet, leaving guards to mill about as the hours passed by. Guy of Gisborne, dressed in his black leather, made his way through without the slightest of hesitation. He did come to a pause in front of the doors, gathering himself as he usually did, and then proceeded to knock on the door. A moment later he heard the affirmative from the other side, and entered nodding to other man.

"Morning, my Lord, I trust you slept well."

"Indeed, indeed," Vaysey announced happily, grinning as he leaned back in his chair. "Today our guest arrives, and by the time he leaves at the end of the week, we will have more power than ever before. Exciting, is it not?"

"If Lord Barlow agrees to sign," Gisborne pointed out accepting the goblet that was passed to him. "Not to mention there would be no value until he was dead."

"That is an easy arrangement," Vaysey pointed out, setting his own cup down. "And he will sign. He is old, and has no family; no one he trusts to hand his lands too. Which is why I've offered to have him come here."

"Get him to sign his lands over, and then kill him on his way out? That would seem suspicious, would it not?"

"Accidents, Gisborne, are such a tragic thing. No matter though, the man will be content to know that his people will be in the hands of the so-called King Richard, what a pity he won't live long enough to see him return home."

Gisborne nodded his approval, knowing how the extra land would benefit them. He knew the Sheriff would find a way around the statement of giving the lands to Kind Richard, there was no real need to worry. He drank the last of the wine and set the cup the cup down, folding his arms across his chest.

"What of our little dungeon rat, little Robin Hood…he say anything interesting yet, hmm?"

Gisborne shook his head, "He's been unconscious, and I've had a physician attending him. He will wake soon."

"Helping our enemies Gisborne? Are we starting to get a soft spot?"

"I'd rather not kill him just yet. He needs to recover before I can start questioning him."

"Suppose his little friends come and rescue him before that? I say it is better to act now, before giving him a chance to get away. He's going to die anyway…better sooner than later, right?"

Gisborne grinned, meeting the other man's gaze. "There will be no rescue. I've already seen to that. Robin was alone; I figured his men wouldn't be too far behind, so I left them a little note. One of my men will remain in the village until they arrive, and pass on the disheartening news of their fearless leader's death."

"Good, good," the Sheriff shouted, moving to his feet. He let out a chuckle, holding out his hands. "Now you are thinking Gisborne. We have work to do, much to prepare for our wonderful guest, Richter."

* * *

The bond between them was unmistakable. Having lived months on end together in the forest, surviving the toughest of times had brought them even closer. There were, as always, difficulties that arose, and marks of minute betrayals, but in the end things always seemed to work out. It was an indestructible force, a yearning for the same goal that kept it so strong. Sometimes words weren't even needed, and entire thoughts could be communicated between them without even trying.

This was one such occasion. Two days had gone by since the morning they woke up without Robin. Little John and Will had spent much of the first day out looking for him, along with the help of Allan. By the time night fell, it was decided by majority that they would head out.

Much was ultimately confused, torn between wanting to stay and wanting to scour the woods for his former Master. Robin had always returned, but at the same time they had always known where he had been. With no sign of the man anywhere, it was assumed that something had happened to him. Much refused to believe it. There was hardly a time that Robin told him of his doings…so why then, would it bother the others that he chosen to do something on his own?

But Much had to chose between traveling with the others, or staying on his own. There was little that he hated more than being on his own. He helped to pack up the camp, and headed out shortly after, lagging behind in case Robin was nearby. It was a dismal hope, for John and Will had searched the area several times already.

They walked most of the night, finding a small clearing towards daybreak to rest. Though a perfect time to sleep, none of them could, waiting, and watching the forest around them, listening for any signs that someone might be near. Much was overly attentive, turning at the slightest of sounds, straining to see what was not there. He was hopeful Robin would burst through the trees at any moment, amused by their worry. Though it was anger him, Much would readily accept that in exchange for any other option.

"Where would he go?"

He met Will's eyes for a brief moment, surprise lining his face. "Me?"

"You know him best; where would he go?"

"How should I know? I am not his Master…he is my Master. He should know where I am, and if I am going to wander off…not the other way around."

"Think," Will broke in, catching his attention. "Has he spoken to you lately, said anything strange? Something that might help us. We have an entire forest…and no direction."

"I…well…he's always saying strange things…things a normal person would not say."

"Strange in according to Robin," Allan corrected him. "We all say things normal people wouldn't."

Much shook his head, mouth hanging open. "Nothing…he's said nothing."

"Are you sure?" John pressed, but was cut off by Will.

"Robin hasn't said much of anything lately. I've been trying to think like him, but it is harder than you would think."

"I know…I know how hard it is," Much put in, raising his head. "I've tried for the last ten years…it doesn't get any easier."

There was a silence that hung in the air between the group, all lost in their own manner of thoughts. Much buried his head into his hands, closing his eyes as he tried to clear out his mind. Somewhere, Robin was out there somewhere. Whether by choice, or by force, Much was determined to find him. He moved to his feet quickly, pulling his bag over his shoulder. "Right then, let's keep moving."

"I'm not being funny, but I didn't hear anyone electing you as leader," Allan pointed out smugly, leaning against a tree.

"Robin's our first priority," Will nodded, "Until we know he is safe, we do not do anything else."

"We have no food, and we have not slept…" Allan protested, "What about watching out for ourselves? I mean, we can't help Robin if we do not care for ourselves first, right?"

"Will is right, Allan," Djaq spoke quietly for the first time. "What if Robin needs us?"

"I don't think…"

"We find Robin," Little John cut him off. "First, we find Robin."

* * *

Robin was aware that he had company even before the light filtered down the grim hallway. He took in his surroundings quickly with the approaching light, not knowing how much time he would have to filter the information through his mind. Still bound, and hurting, Robin had worked his way to his feet, resting against the wall. His face was smooth, and passive, hiding any emotions from view. If he was to survive this, he needed to play his cards carefully.

"Good, you're awake," Gisborne greeted him quietly when he passed in front of the cell. "I've been waiting."

"Sorry to have kept you waiting; though I'm sure you've managed to keep yourself busy."

"I'm not here to hear your mockery," he growled, sliding the torch into a holder along the wall. "I want answers."

"And you think I will tell you willingly? You don't know me at all." Robin quipped smugly, a smile crossing his face. His eyes never left the man, but in his mind, everything around him was falling into place. There were four cells around him, all of them unoccupied; it meant he was in the most secure of prisons the Sheriff had to offer. That meant he was further underground then all the others as well…which meant a lot stairs…and a lot of climbing.

"Don't insult me Locksley, if it is anything, it is you that has underestimated me."

One door to his cell that opened outward, a simple lock that could be jiggled free with the right tool. He couldn't tell for sure what tool it would be; he would have to wait for an opportunity to come his way for a better look.

"I doubt that is possible; you can't underestimate something that is a low as you are."

Straight ahead was another passageway, barred off by a gate. Guy had entered from the right; Robin could not see from this angle if it too had a similar gate blocking the stairs, but he could assume that there was. He glanced back at the guards that were readying the keys to open his cell.

"We will see then, won't we?" Gisborne wondered quietly, nodding towards the guards. "We will see just how far your loyalty goes."

Robin didn't break his gaze away, and nodded slowly. "I look forward to it."

* * *

Night was falling, and the group was nowhere nearer to finding Robin than they had been before. The only clue was a small one, and disturbing at that, for within the trees they had found a body. A body of a young woman, a young woman that was clutching a tag…a tag that belonged to Robin.

Much had been the one to find her, nearly tripping over her still form that was hidden below a steep hill. A single, black arrow stuck out her back, covered in blood, and her eyes were open, staring ahead as if frozen in one place. It was hard for anyone to handle, even for those who had witnessed death before. It made it no easier knowing that her death had most likely been innocent.

"Do you recognize her?" Djaq questioned, looking up from where she knelt at the woman's head.

Will nodded sadly. "I don't know her name, but I've seen her. Robin's spoken to her before."

"If she has Robin's tag, then that means something bad has happened," Much complained bitterly, pacing back and forth a few feet from where the body lay. "If something bad has happened to Robin, then something bad will happen to me, because I can't live without him."

"Shut up Much," Allan warned coldly. Will could have thanked him; though the man meant well, he was only making a bad situation worse.

"Knighton Hall, Marian," he nodded quickly to Djaq. "That's where, Robin knew her through Marian. He would have trusted her with his life. The fact that Robin gave her this," Wll turned the inscribed tag over in his hands, "This worries me."

"Me too," Djaq said softly, her gaze moving to the lifeless form below. "But where? How?"

Will let out a sigh closing his eyes as he made a fist around the small wooden piece. The same wooden piece he had carved himself so long ago. "We head for Knighton Hall. If she came from there, then we should be able to find something out."

**TBC**


	4. Speaking Truths and Lies

**Thanks for all the reviews! Still a continuation, and once again I'll remind those who are reading that I am not an expert on Robin Hood, so I may have facts and information off. If I am, please kindly inform me **

**Chapter Four: Speaking Truths and Lies**

It wasn't that bad, the pain. It came and went in phases, but for the most part it was hardly felt as long as he remained still. There were no serious wounds…no broken bones, no lacerations; just bruises. He couldn't see them, but he could feel them, and it wasn't surprising, given the way Gisborne had beaten him. 

Robin had no knowledge of how long it had lasted; time had seemed to crawl by, minutes stretching into hours. There was nothing but darkness, dimly lit by the burning torches, and Gisborne himself, his face, and cold hard voice filling his ears. It hadn't made any difference; Robin had won. At least for now. 

Nothing had passed through his lips save for muffled grunts and groans from the forceful blows, and Robin had held his voice steady during daring taunts, and bitter responses. Gisborne knew nothing more than he had before…his men were safe, Marian's previous work as the Night Watchman was safe, and the man learnt nothing of the secret shares and holds of where they hid excessive food or treasures. Gisborne was after something, Robin knew, and he wouldn't let the Sheriff's right hand man learn anything. 

The real question however was for how long? He had only been there a few days, and had only been questioned once. It was brutal, but Robin had seen worse in the Holy Lands. Gisborne, of course, would suspect that, and in time the questionings would become more violent. He could hold out against the man for a time, but not forever. 

Robin had seen the method of questionings held before; had seen the end result of those who held their tongues. He had even witnessed the forms of punishment received to offenders before leaving for the war so many years ago. That was when King Richard was in charge; times had changed since then, and Vaysey did not hold the same outlook as the King had. 

Time had passed, and his body, burning with pain, had finally been ignored. Gisborne had been called away to more pressing matters and had left Robin in the hands of the jailer, and guards that were standing by. The walk back to his cell had not been pleasant, the jailer already held a foul disposition against the former Lord, and wasted no time in making that clear. Robin had held himself together, slowing his breathing and his racing heart as he rested against the back wall on the floor. More time had passed before his injuries were tended. 

Sarah, the same old woman that had tended him before worked over him gently. The stitching had torn and needed to be patched up, and though it was painful, Robin did not resist. The wet cloth that wiped the blood from his face was cool, and her administrations were gentle against his swollen lips, and bruised face as she moved slowly. He took the water that was offered, but declined the small portion of food as his stomach turned. Though it would keep up his strength, Robin knew that his body was not yet ready. 

"They want you to eat," she told him quietly, holding the stale piece of bread up to him. 

"To keep my strength up," Robin nodded, already knowing what Gisborne had in mind. "He doesn't wish to kill me too soon." 

Sarah moved closer, lowering her voice so the guard outside could not hear her. "This is more than most prisoners get; do shy away from their generosity."

"You've never been outside of the castle, have you?" Robin queried, meeting her soft gaze. "This is not generosity; it is murder, treason, if you might say. King Richard would never allow…" 

"The King is not here, is he?" Sarah hushed him quickly, glancing over her shoulder. "I know what he would do. For I too served under him, Robin of Locksley." 

She smiled at his questioning gaze, a sad one, but one of slight comfort. "Are you really surprised that I know you? I was around long before you were born, and I have watched you grow. I may be little more than a servant, but I am still human; I do pay attention to what happens outside of the castle." 

Robin was shaking his head as he let out a sigh, "There are hundreds of people in Nottingham alone, many Lords and Nobles…how can you say that you know me, when we've never spoken before?" 

"I knew you mother," she answered softly. "Remember when you were little, when you came to the market, the lady that would watch you as your mother went about her business? You're a good man Robin; you have a lot of her in you. You have her spirit." 

"Then help me," he whispered to her quietly, eyeing the guard who was lingering a few feet away. "Surely you can get me out of here. My men and I would find safe passage for you and your family to a new life." 

"Robin, you cannot ask this of me. My life is here…the other servants, they are my family. We know nothing else; and we dare not defy the Sheriff. You know what he can do." 

"All the more reason to get out of here," he urged her. 

"We have seen so many things; the men, the women, even children that end up in here, speak of your doings outside of the castle. You bring them hope; you give them something to believe in; even if it is their last days. I would help you if I could, but you know that I cannot. Only the jailer carries the keys, and he would never pass them to someone else. I am old; I cannot get them away from him." 

Her hand touched the side of this face, redirecting his fading gaze back to her face. There was compassion etched into every line on her face. "I will help you; but not in that way." 

The fleeting moment of hope was now completely gone, and Robin had resigned himself to another lost hope. He knew the old woman had little power, and it was unfair to ask such a task of her, knowing that it was one she could never accomplish, but it made the pain no easier to bear. He gave her a small nod as the jailer returned, barking orders at her to finish. 

Sarah put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, leaving the small plate of food on the floor next to him as she gathered the rest of her belongings. Robin watched her leave, closing his eyes as the darkness gathered around him as he was left alone to his thoughts. They were like cells around him; dark, depressing, and completely empty. 

* * *

Their worries and concerns had only increased as they moved on. The group had given the young woman a proper burial, giving her blessings, and wishes before heading towards the town she had fled. Knighton Hall itself was beyond words. The house they knew so well, the same house Marian and her father had lived in for years was now in ruins. Smoke filtered through the skies, leaving behind charred remains of the wooden structure. But it wasn't just the sight that had bothered them. 

They could smell it long before arriving. The stench of burning flesh and their fears were confirmed as they stepped outside of the forest's edge. Many were dead, many had died inside their houses, and those lucky enough to escape had been killed in their tracks. Those who were left, lucky in some eyes, not so to others, were busy picking up the remains that were left behind. 

The dead had been piled up away from the houses, nearer to the forest, and most had been burned, some still were. Will pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose, trying to block out some of the putrid scent, but it helped little. Behind him, the others were doing the same as they walked through the ruins, tears lining their eyes as the shock began to wear off. 

Never before had they ever seen something quite like this. Will doubted that even Much, the man who had served by Robin's side in the war, had seen such horrors. The tales that had been spun by returning warriors were gruesome, but Will doubted even the most talented spinners could weave such a tale as this. Not only were these innocent victims hunted down and killed, but they were not safe even once they were dead. 

"Breathe through your mouth my friend," a man called too them, dropping another body onto the growing pile in front of them. "It is much easier." 

Recognition fled through Will's mind, but it was brief, and fleeting; as soon as the speculation had entered his mind, it had disappeared. He said nothing as the others passed him, his eyes searching the area around them for something…anything at all. In his mind, something wasn't right, but Will couldn't guess to exactly what it was. 

"I think I can taste it," Much spat bitterly, covering his face once more. "How can you stand it?" 

The stranger was bent in half, hands resting on his knees. It was clear he had been working hard, for sweat drenched his skin and wetted his clothes. His hair was short, dark in color, and there was a strange smoothness to his skin, that didn't quite fit in with the work of peasant. 

"When you are here for a while, you become used to it," he admitted quietly. "You are not here to help, why are you here?" 

"No reason," Will answered quickly, doubt still circulating in his mind. "Just passing through." 

"What about Robin?" Little John countered him, anger lacing his voice. 

"Robin Hood?" 

"I'm sorry," Will shook his head. "I must have missed your name." 

"Henry," the stranger offered, holding out his hand. "I work…I used to work as a craftsman, over there," he nodded towards one of the ruined buildings. "I am not sure what I will be doing after this." 

"What happened?"

It was Much that had spoken, taking a step after shaking the man's hand. The same question was burning in Will's mind; there was no doubt that this was the work of the Sheriff, so the answer had surprised him.

"No one knows for sure; a group of men, mercenaries some think. They attacked during the night; we had no warning. I fought as best as I could. I am no warrior though…I only make the weapons, I don't wield them. You are all armed as I can see; are you Robin Hood's men?"

Much began to nod but Will cut him off. "Perhaps; why would it matter to you?"

Henry looked down; a sad, defeated look crossed his face. "We could have used the likes of you, all of us, Robin included."

"He's here?" Much asked excitedly, moving closer. 

"Was," Henry admitted quietly. "During the attack, at least."

"Was?" Djaq questioned, "he left?"

"He wouldn't leave," Alan argued, "Not Robin, he would have stayed behind to help, surely…"

"I am sorry," Henry whispered, meeting Will's forlorn gaze. 

"He's dead," Will asked, a chill racing through his body as the man nodded.

"No," Much shook his head, "No, he cannot be…where is he?"

John was the first to react, pulling Much back as he lunged forward, sword in hand. Henry was backing up quickly, hands held out to the side as Much continued to cry out at him. Alan and Djaq were also helping, Will moving to place himself between the two. There were other peasants watching now, curious glances as the three restrained the out of control man. Will turned to glance at Henry as John and the others worked to calm Much, who was now in tears. 

There was a painful sting at his own heart, but he couldn't let it take over, not now. "You know this, how? It was dark, and there were many distractions. You could have been misled."

"His body is with the others," he nodded over to one of the piles. "We do not have money for a burial; you may follow through and do as you wish. I would warn you, all of you…to not stray over there unless you can handle it. Many of the dead are not recognizable."

Will nodded, turning to watch as Djaq comforted the crying man who was know seated on the ground. There were mixed emotions covering both John and Alan's faces, one the may have reflected what he was feeling as well. "Stay with them," he nodded towards Djaq and Much, turning to Alan next. "Let us go see."

Alan only nodded, following after a moment. There were several piles, each more gruesome than the last, but Will led them by all until he reached the one Henry had pointed out. They stood for a moment, surveying what lay before them. Henry had been right; most of the dead were burned, or cut beyond recognition. If Robin was indeed in here…Will let out a breath as he moved closer.

It was hard to look upon the faces of so many, knowing their last moments had been in terror. What was worst was the fact that many did not have any family left…there would be no proper burials for them. Will took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. "We need to help these people," he told Alan quietly.

"I'm not being funny, but how are you going to help dead people?"

"We will bury them…help them find their peace. It is the least we can do. It is what Robin would have done."

The other man let out a sigh, but nodded as he moved around the pile. It was easy to see he was shaken by the turn of events, and Will couldn't blame him. He half blamed himself for Robin's fate; if only he had been more aware of his surroundings. It had been his turn to take watch that night…but Robin had taken over for him. Will had been good about listening for his departures lately…but that night had been long in coming, and he had been exhausted. Then he wondered if he would have been any help at all.

If he had gone with Robin, he too may have been piled among the dead, leaving the others to wonder about their fates. There were few who had survived, only a few like Henry…

The thought caught, and lingered, his mind wandering over what the stranger had said. _I fought as best as I could. I am no warrior though…I only make the weapons, I don't wield them._

He was no fighter…but he held no signs of wounds. That was a common trait for one who knew how to fight. Those who did not, who were thrust into sudden battle, were often killed, or gravely wounded. The other thing that bothered him was his hands. Will had met many craftsmen…all with worn, tired hands from the harsh work. Henry's had been smooth, untouched almost; and the more he thought about it, the more he didn't like the story.

"Stay with the others," Will told Alan quietly. "There's something I have to do."

"Like what?" Alan questioned, "I thought you wanted to bury these people…and find Robin…"

"I do," Will nodded, "but there is something I must do first. I'll leave you in charge until I get back. Head back into the forest if you must, I will find you later."

He hoped, in his mind, that he knew what he was doing. Alan wasn't the best of people to take charge, especially in such a situation, but it was the only way Will knew he could leave without the man arguing with him. He headed off quickly, taking the road that lead into Nottingham, a thought and direction in his mind. 

If he had paid closer attention, he would have seen the strange man watching him, and the others with an eerie smile, disappearing into the shadows as everyone grieved. 

�

**TBC**

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	5. A Suspicion

**Chapter Five: A Suspicion **

He had slept. He wasn't sure exactly how he had managed to do so, or for how long, but he felt stronger when he woke. His body was still sore from the rough treatment, and his legs ached from the awkward position he had lain in; his hands were nearly numb from the bindings he was forced to remain in. Alone, and unguarded, Robin knew this unlikely miracle would not last long.

Slowly, with pained breaths, he worked his way to his feet, leaning against the wall until he was certain he could stand under his own strength. Though his hands were bound, the fact that they remained in front of him gave him a slight advantage. He felt his way along the walls, confirming what he already knew. Strong and sturdy, without any noticeable weak spot, and no sharp edges he could use to cut his binds away.

It was the first blow…but a small one. Robin held his breath as the pain came, and waited till it passed before moving on. His attention turned to the lock, and he reached through the bars as far as he could, fingers feeling over the device. It would need a key…there wasn't any doubt about that. Simpler locks could be picked, but it was clear to see Gisborne wasn't taking any chances. Robin wondered if that was the reason not even the jailer was around. To keep Robin from gaining his freedom.

He could not so easily give up hope. There were the others, and if by any hope, they would find him. They had come for him once before; Much, Will, and Little John…as well as the others. They didn't leave him to face his death last time…surely they would not do the same. Yet every circumstance was different, he knew.

A smile crossed his face as he thought. Much, he knew, would never stop looking. The man was loyal to him in every aspect, and Robin could never ask for a more faithful friend; the only thing that sadden him was the inability to tell Much this. Though Much followed forever in his shadow, Robin knew that his own strength resided in trusting the other. It was a shame, on how many times he was ready to give up while fighting in the Holy Lands, and a blessing that Much gave him the strength he needed to continue.

War changed everything; Robin was no fool. His dreams were laden with happenings thousands of miles away. People he knew, people he cared about had died during battle, and many had been deeply scarred or wounded. Robin had been lucky, and he had hoped his return to Locksley would eventually bring him the peace he so desperately sought. Even though, he had been saddened to return.

He believed that regaining his lands, and reuniting with those he left behind, would bring him great joy. Still, he feared that he would lose something much greater. The friendship that had been brought about by two very different men, in the passing years of service. There were those that had scorned him for his decision, questioned him on his views. How could he lead without priority? How could he hold things in balance when he saw all things equally? Surely it was a weakness. But it was King Richard that told him differently.

_"It is a strength."_

He had always been close to the King, bearing a noble bloodline, and serving in the most prudent of situations. But it was the war in the Holy Land that had brought them closer. In the passing days, and nights, when they waited on the battlefield, or kept in their tents, their quiet voices could be heard over the fires. The King had dismissed all the worries Robin had held, encouraging him to keep his heart where it was. A true leader, he had said, seeks compassion and understanding, not profit and gain. The ability to lead, and learn, came solely through love; for his greatest strength was also his greatest weakness.

_"You are only as great as those who remember you Robin; let them remember you fondly." _

He wasn't sure if he still held that now. Sure, his comrades in battle would remember him; his friends in the forest would…Marian as well…but to everyone else he was just an outlaw. An outlaw that was currently residing in the dungeons of the castle. Robin rested his head against the bars as he closed his eyes. It was always a losing battle, even before he had begun; but that hadn't been enough to deter him. The only comfort he held was the fact the he could not participate in the injustice. He would certainly not die a free man; but at least his conscience would be clean.

* * *

Getting in had been easy enough. Nottingham was always a busy place, even during trying times such as this. Though guards were plentiful, there was always one distraction or another going on, keeping them busy. Will had slipped inside within mere seconds, sticking to the streets on the outside, close to the walls.

Here, it was quieter than the main streets, which left him more vulnerable, easier to spot and perhaps recognize, but at the same time these streets were not patrolled as heavily. People passed by without so much as a second glance to the hooded figure, and Will welcomed it in stride as he paused under an awning, shying away from the sun. The town had been one thing, getting inside the castle would be another. Since leaving Knighton, he had been running the scene through his mind, trying to pinpoint where exactly he had seen the man before…Henry, as he called himself. Will had a doubt that was even his name. The conversation had been forced…almost as though he had wanted to talk about Robin…as if he was eager to pass along the news.

But where had he seen him? He wasn't given much opportunity to think as several guards rounded the corner, forcing Will further back into one of the open doorways. He moved efficiently, almost without thought, disappearing into the shadows as he waited for them to pass. There had been so much he had learned from Robin, and he owned the man more than his life. There were times he doubted he could ever repay the man. Not only for saving his life, but his brother's as well. And helping his family to safety after that one trying day.

He refused to believe that Robin was actually dead; and he was no fool. Will knew that they all risked their lives with each passing day. They were outlaws, and prices had been set upon their heads. If the guards or greedy townsmen didn't catch them, then it was Mother Nature herself that seemed to wear them down. It had been so long since he last had a decent meal, a warm bed, or even a bath…

He wouldn't give it up; not until things were right again that was. He, like Robin, could not stand to live under such cruelty as shown by the Sheriff. He had seen his father, and mother suffer at the man's hands. Not to mention the rest of Locksley. Sulking in shadows, stealing from those who were better off than himself…Will had been secretly living the life of an outlaw before Robin had even returned. It had felt wonderful, even more than he could ever explain, to know that someone else outside of his family agreed with his views. Though his father had disagreed, Will had chosen to stay behind and fight alongside Robin.

Waiting until the guards had fully passed, Will stepped back out onto the street, moving north, towards the castle, running the entrances through his mind. There were several; but all were relatively guarded. It was the reason they always moved in groups; a distraction was always necessary.

A hand came down on his shoulder without warning, sending curses through his mind as he whipped out a small knife he kept concealed on his belt. He had let himself become unaware of his surroundings, and he needed to be quick if he wished for his presence to remain unknown. Will was already turning, bringing up the knife handle first, ready to send a blow to the other's head when the hand stopped him.

Allan had taken a few steps back, one hand grasping his wrist, the other held up as though it would stop the incoming blow. "It's just me!"

Will let out a breath, but his relief was short-lived as their exchange had been noticed by onlookers. Quickly he grabbed the other man's hood, and pushed him back into the shadows, following closely behind. Once they were sheltered from prying eyes he tore off his own hood, shaking his head.

"What are you doing here? I told you to stay with the others."

"I'm not being funny, but no one elected you as leader," Allan told him smugly. "Besides, you're up to something, aren't you?"

"Where are the others?" Will pressed, glancing around the quiet street.

"Calm down, I can do some things right."

"Where?"

"They're back at Knighton; and no, they didn't follow me. What's got you so wound up?"

Will let out a sigh, moving out from the cover of the shadows to survey their surroundings. "Are you not even a bit upset about Robin?"

"Well, of course," Allan nodded, "but moping about isn't going to bring him back, and not being funny, but being here could likely get us all hanged. We are still outlaws."

"Then why did you come?"

"Why did you come?"

Will shook his head, letting out a sigh. Sometimes there was no way to reason with him. He had his strengths, but sometimes his weaknesses brought him down.

"You think…he's alive?"

Will glanced at him from the corner of his eye before nodding. "I need to get into the castle."

He missed the smile on the man's face, but he could hear it well enough in his voice. "I can help you with that."

* * *

Gisborne had come for him again. That in itself wasn't surprising; Robin knew the man was far from finished with him. For a second time he was pulled from his cell, and bound, standing, to a thick post. At least this time he had his wits about him. Though he was weak, he was stronger than before, from both the rest, and the knowledge that he had won the last time. He knew now what was going to come, and he knew he could fight it on his own. He had to…for he was alone.

"I grow weary of this Hood," Gisborne told him quietly as the guard secured the last of the rope around the post. Robin winced as it was pulled taunt, but failed to show any other emotion.

"I'm sure you are as well. You will die, and when your forest friends are arrested, they too will die. Save yourself and your little friends the trouble."

"I don't understand what you are saying," Robin answered with a defiant stare.

"I'm saying that I'm giving you a chance to end this; here and now. Tell me where your camp is, tell me where you store your wares, and the Nightwatchman. Who he is? Tell me what I want to know, and I'll make you death painless. I can also assure you that your allies will suffer a quick death as well."

Robin let out a laugh as Gisborne began to circle him. "There now, that seems like fair deal."

"I will get the information one way or another. The manner of how depends on you," Gisborne came to a stop, only a few feet away now. "So, what's it going to be."

"Loyalty."

"What?"

Robin smiled, shrugging. "You wouldn't understand."

It only enticed Gisborne to move in closer, and his voice was low and deadly as he answered. "Try me."

He knew the blow was coming, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. The fist caught him in the stomach, stealing his breath away as he bent over as far as his bonds would allow him. A few precious moments without air passed before he was able to draw another breath. His words were weak, but they were still there.

"If I am to die, then at least the people I love will be safe."

"How noble," Gisborne scorned, coming up to his other side. "And what of the people you _love_? How much will they be willing to tell I wonder?"

"They wouldn't," Robin laughed quietly. "Like I said…loyalty."

"Perhaps," the other man nodded, "but that depends on how you look at it. Loyalty is only as strong as your own will."

Robin pulled back as he moved closer, Gisborne's breath in his ear sending a chill down his spine. "It can be swayed…loyalties change all the time. I'm sure you can recall."

Robin flinched as a gloved hand ran along his old scar, doing what he could to avoid the man. "Don't touch me."

"I should have killed you then; but the more I think of it, I'm glad I did not. I'd rather you die knowing who it was that killed you; and I want to see your face when you die."

"How noble," Robin mocked him. "If only Marian could see you now; bloodlust, malice...what would she think?"

This time he hadn't been ready, although he should have known full well of what he would do. The onslaught of blows never seemed to end, yet at the same time it was over almost as quickly as it had begun. His body was left screaming, his head spinning as he clung to what lucid thought he still had.

Some of the blows had caught him on the side of the head, the rest, along his ribs. It was harder than ever to breathe now, and he took each breath as though it was his last, holding it as long as he could before letting it out. Gisborne was talking, but Robin had missed most of what he said.

"Not that it matters…"

"What?"

His voice was a lot weaker than he had wanted to sound, but Gisborne's words had sparked his interest. Not only that, Robin had a feeling that if he could control the conversation, then he could steer it away from the questions he feared the most. If the questions were never asked, there was no chance he could answer them.

"A secret; but seeing that you are a dead man anyways. We are expecting a visit from a Lord who is seeking to sign his lands over. Imagine the power; more troops, more people, more taxes…"

"You think this noble will sign his lands upon seeing the state of Nottingham?"

"A minor detail," Gisborne shook his head. "Nothing you have to worry about. I'll make sure you are entertained while I am attending him."

The conversation stopped, but left Robin's mind reeling as the dungeon door opened from above. Who would sign…no one in their right mind would, unless they were in league with the Sheriff…but to do what? Anyone interested in power would not so freely give away their own, unless they were faced with a situation they could not turn down. Whatever the case was, Robin knew it had to be stopped. Gisborne, the Sheriff, and their followers could not gain more power.

His attention was drawn back to where Gisborne had stepped outside of the cell to talk with one of his guards. Their voices were low, and Robin couldn't make out any of the words even though he tried. Whatever was being said was finished, and Gisborne moved to leave, only to be stopped shortly after.

"Sir Guy…the prisoner?"

"Leave him there," Gisborne said after a moment. "We have unfinished business we'll attend later."

**TBC**


	6. A Chance at Hope

**Sorry for the wait, things have been a little bit busy, but I've managed. Hope you enjoy, there's still more to come, so remember to review, let me know you are still reading!**

* * *

**Chapter Six: A Chance at Hope**

It was strange how fate worked sometimes. How when it seemed it was against everything, it was, in reality, helping to spur things along. For though Will and Allan had gone off a simple fleeting suspicion, the rest of the group hadn't noticed, and therefore had remained behind. It was this alone that had first helped without really seeming too. If Will's speculation held correctly even in the slightest of degree, there was no telling to what he would find. For if Robin was alive, the passing news of his death was a grave concern, and Will had often heard of the dark and dreary tales that came from the prisons inside.

So, for this time at least, it was the lack of numbers that played in favor for Will. A larger group would have surely brought more attention upon them, but one could not assume that the lone man fading in and out of the alleyways was much a threat. With Allan's help, they were able to convince a guard to willingly donate his uniform for a time…or perhaps not so willingly. He left the unresponsive guard in Allan's watch, with a more severe word to make sure that he was not followed this time. Whether Allan would listen or not was a confusing, yet shamelessly amusing thought.

There was hardly any challenge getting into the castle. There were many doorways and windows that were left unguarded just for a start. Then there were the many other ways Will didn't even wish to think about it. His mother had consistently rebuked him and his younger brother for the messes they often brought home. If only she knew now of the sort of filth he acquired on a daily basis. The thought only caused Will to shake his head quietly.

Being the oldest child in his family had left him with a responsibility to travel with his father to the castle on more than one occasion. Saying he had enjoyed the excursions would have been an outright lie. For a young boy, for the first few times, it had been enjoyable. But it hadn't lasted long. It took a full night to prepare for the journey, and a long travel on a horse-drawn cart that left one sore, especially a young boy who was filled with energy, fidgeting for most of the ride.

There was no exploring, or running free while his father attended to business, seeing to repairs, or delivering new strong boxes. Will could remember fiercely the long hours spent sitting and waiting for everything to be said and done, all the while envying his brother who had the opportune to stay at home and play until the day grew dark.

But the memories, though not his warmest, had also gone to prove how strange fate actually was. For all the years Will had spent traveling with his father to the castle, he had spent his time memorizing the twists and turns that had been taken traveling between the rooms. From time to time there had been maps, drawn by hand, whether for decoration or informational purposes he could never tell. Sometimes he would have naught to do but sit and stare at them, and even after all this time, he could clearly remember how each corridor turned.

These were the maps he held now, in his mind, as he wandered quietly down the halls. It was quiet, surprisingly enough. Times before, when he had been here with Robin, or any of the others, there was always a meeting between one, or even several guards. Will attributed it all to luck at the moment, and if things were working in his favor, he would not argue against it.

But simply knowing where each hallway led did not help him in the most. Will had no idea of where he was going, other than down. His speculation was that if Robin was indeed alive, he was being held prisoner, and prisoners were kept in the dungeons below. Even if he did find him, there was the issue of getting him out. That in itself was a completely different story altogether.

Thoughts, fears were more like it, would flitter across his mind. It had been days since Robin's disappearance, there was no simple way of telling what sort of damage could have been done within that time. He feared that they had somehow immobilized him…that Robin wouldn't be able to walk, or fight for that matter. Both attributes Will desperately needed in order to pull this daring rescue off.

There was the matter of the jailer too. Will knew that once faced with him, there would be little time in silencing him. And then the other prisoners…if they saw the proceedings, then surely they too would want the taste of freedom. It was a gift he would not have time to grant, and though he already hated himself for the thoughts, Will knew that if it came down to it, he too would have a need to silence the unfortunate prisoners.

He arrived at the dungeon door later than he had first wanted, but at the same time, extra care and caution had been taken to make sure he remained undetected. To be honest, he was slightly afraid of what might befall Robin if this rescue failed. If Robin was even alive…

Will closed his eyes, one hand on the door as he composed himself. In his heart, and his mind, he felt strongly that he was, and it scared him. He was afraid to face the disappointment if it was not true. So far he had kept himself free from emotion, but they were quickly catching up to him.

With some much needed effort, Will pushed the thoughts out of his mind, and slipped through the now open door. There was a stark comparison between the castle corridors, and the dungeons down below. For one it was much darker, the walls and steps illuminated by the faint glow of the burning torches. The other noticeable change was the smell…

Though the corridors could prove to be stuffy from time to time, mostly in the heat of the summer, there was always fresh air wafting in from the outside. Down here, there was no moving air, fresh or not. It seemed heavy, weighing down on every fiber of his being as he made his way down the winding steps, resisting temptation to grab a torch. He wanted nothing more than to remain unseen.

At the bottom he paused, searching the expanding room with eyes that were now used to the dim lighting. It worried him some to see nothing, and no one save for a few poor souls huddled back in the corners of their cells. Will had hoped one of them would be Robin…but knew they would not be so foolish to keep the man locked up near the exit.

The slightest sound, it was somewhat muffled, and yet a bit scratchy alerted him quickly that he was not alone. Coming from behind him, off to one side, Will spun quickly, fingers closing around his weapon, ready for the fight. But there was none, and he let out a sigh as he spotted the missing jailer, sound asleep upon a stool, reclining against one of the walls. Asleep…or drunk, he presumed, eyeing the nearly empty bottle that hung loosely from his fingers, dangling inches above the ground.

"Takes care of that," Will whispered to himself, moving only when he was certain the jailer was indeed enwrapped within a heavy drunken sleep. He had to admit to himself that he was grateful for the Sheriff's lack in attention to most things. Will had never known the man to spend more than needy for anything…and security was one of them.

He passed by the cells, stopping at the ones that were occupied, but never staying long. There was no sign of Robin as he continued, and the uneasy feeling that he had held before was now beginning to return as he rounded the corner. Very few of the prisoners met his gaze, and those who did turned away quickly, as if ashamed of there current predicament. Will could only hope they would have enough sense to hold their tongues on his departure, whether it be alone or in company.

More cells, all of which were empty, and Will had nearly given up hope as he came up to the last few. But hope has a funny way of bringing back faith at just the right moments. Will had only seen this particular cell once or twice in all the times he had journeyed down here, and he knew perfectly well what it was used for.

The extent of what had happened was unknown, for from his vantage point he could not see much. The door to the cell had been left opened, either from forgetful manner, or perhaps to mock the man that was chained up inside. A taste of freedom that was so close, and yet so far at the same time.

Robin was secured to a thick pole that ran the length of the room vertically, embedded into both the floor and the ceiling. His hands were tied together in front of him, hanging a good measure above his head. It left him no other choice but to stand straight, and close to the pole or else bear his full weight on his wrists, which was no more comfortable. How long he had been there Will had no real way of telling, but from a first guess he could assume it had been a while.

Quickly he shook off the growing feeling that was developing deep inside of him, and moved quietly into the cell. For whatever reason the door had been left open, Will was thankful. He was skilled with locks, thanks to his dad, but not even he could pick a lock so sophisticated as a prison door.

Will wasn't sure if Robin had heard him, but if he had the man wasn't paying attention, his eyes closed as his forehead rested against the beam in front of him. Even in the dim light Will could see the bruises that marked him, both his face and his torso, which had been stripped prior to the beating. As hard as it was to see, he couldn't help feel guilty over the fact that he was overjoyed to see him alive. Carefully as he could, he reached out and placed a hand on the man's arms, calling his name in a hushed tone.

The sound of his voice seemed to draw Robin out of the trance he had been lost in, and there was clear recognition in his eyes as their gaze met.

"Will! What are you doing here?" he questioned, quickly lowering his voice to a hushed tone.

"Getting you out of here," Will shook his head, reaching above to cut away the rope that kept him in place. "One of the Sheriff's men informed us you were dead…I wanted to make sure for myself."

"It is foolhardy. You would risk not only your life but the life of the others for a speculation?"

Will's response was cut short as he severed the last of the bindings, sending Robin to the floor as his legs buckled under him. Will caught him as he fell, and helped maneuver him into a sitting position as the man rested for a moment.

"The others aren't here save for Allan; they rest think you are dead."

"There was a raid on Knighton Hall…"

Will nodded, "We know, Much and the others are helping the wounded and their families. The man who gave us the news, said his name was Henry, and that he was a craftsman. I thought I saw him in the company of the Sheriff before."

Robin agreed quietly, rubbing his wrists where the ropes had cut into his skin. "More in likely you have. I do not remember a Henry being in Knighton Hall, and the only craftsman there is James Lansen."

It was a relief for Will to know that his instincts had been right, but even that feeling was only momentarily. He reached over to his left, picking up the discarded shirt and handing it to Robin. It wouldn't provided much protection, but it was better than nothing. "We need to move."

"And quickly," Robin agreed, shrugging painfully back into the garments he had been stripped of before. The silent suffering did not go unnoticed by Will, and he could only wonder to what other injuries were hiding beneath the bruises.

"Can you walk?" It was the other question burning on his mind. It wasn't that he doubted his leader's strength, but he also knew full well that Robin often pushed himself when he should not. The nod that came from the other man was not entirely encouraging, but Robin still managed to move to his feet without any help.

"Let us go, before we are missed."

**TBC**


	7. Play the Game

**It's been a while-- yes**

**I haven't abandoned the story -- no**

**I don't intend too either, and I will hopefully try to be better about posting**

**Thanks to all those who are still reading (if anyone is)**

****

Review and I might write faster! (hint hint)

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**Chapter 7: Play the Game**

There was no need to speak for the pair to understand one another. Living together in the midst of the forest for months on end had done that for them. Will took the lead, moving quietly down the corridors, keeping a keen ear out for his companion. Everything echoed quietly in the abandoned hallways, and Will could not miss the short heavy breaths that came from behind him, nor the uneven pace as they moved quickly. Injuries, he assumed. Injuries that would have to be tended to later.

He was uneasy to say the least. He had traveled lightly, armed with only his axe, dressed now in a guard's uniform. It was more than Robin had; the man had been stripped of all accessories, left weaponless and barely able to walk. Any confrontation would have to end in immediate surrender. Will would not risk Robin's life, even if Robin was willing to risk it himself. No, he would get Robin out alive, or share in fate if he should fail.

When they came to the crossing he slowed, listening to the quiet murmurs from around the corner. Robin had come to a stop behind him, one arm against the wall, supporting his weight. Will motioned to him to be silent, to which Robin agreed without hesitation. The fatigue was clearly etched on the man's face, and was not missed by Will. They waited, even long after the voices faded, Will daring to give Robin as much time as possible to rest. When they moved again, there was no complaint, instead a silence that somehow urged them on. And on they went.

Will could feel a growing thrill as they approached the last turn. He had taken a longer route for sure, hoping for the easiest method of escape. It had been building in the back of his mind; any climbing, or jumping, even the lengthily falls they took on a normal occasion could prove to be too much for his companion. Whether Robin knew of this plan, or was to worn out to wonder, he didn't question it. And now, they were almost free. Around the corner, down the stairs, and through the door. They would be outside the castle, but still in castle courtyard.

It would be into the alleyways then; they were less traveled, and it would provide them with ample cover until they reached Alan. He would feel safer then, more numbers, more weapons, and another pair of eyes. It was reassuring, but Will knew he could not give into the feelings just yet. Though it was so close, they still had a ways to go.

And even more it seemed. At the turn Will made his way quickly down the stairs, pausing though as Robin did not follow. Motioning quietly he urged Robin to continue, but the man seemed not to even notice, nor did he even turn his way. His gaze was fixed instead straight ahead, following the path of the corridor they were just walking. Without a word he took off, ignoring Will's call.

It did not take him long to catch up with Robin, coming to a stop as the man peered around the corners, before taking off once more.

"What are you doing?"

Robin did not answer, at least not right away. He pulled back into the shadows as footfalls entered the hallway, Will following without having to be told. It wasn't until the guards had passed that he answered.

"There's a Lord coming; I believe the Sheriff and Gisborne are intent on forcing him to sign his lands over to Nottingham."

"Where? When?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes. "I don't know; Gisborne wouldn't let loose all of the details. We must find out though, I will not allow another land to fall victim to the Sheriff's schemes, and the last thing he needs is more power to abuse."

"We've heard of nothing," Will countered him. "You do not know if the story is even true; Gisborne normally doesn't divulge the Sheriff's plans with you."

"That's why we need to find out more," Robin answered quietly. "Gisborne would have no means to lie about such a matter. It would give him nothing."

"Then we will find out later, when we are more prepared. Besides, what interest does a noble have in signing away his lands? "

"We may not have the time, as he may not have the choice. This needs to end here."

There would be no further argument; Robin was already moving again. The deep icy feeling had returned to the pit of Will's stomach, and it turned quickly into a steady ache as he moved to catch up with the departing man. It was a curse as much as it was a gift for Robin, the need to always put others above himself. One day it would very likely get himself killed, it already almost had.

He tried again to persuade the man into turning back, reaching out and clasping his shoulder. But he was brushed off quickly with a slight shudder. From pain or irritation would have to be figured out later. Will followed from then on in silence, hoping and praying things would work out.

"The Sheriff's room?"

Will had only asked as Robin slowed to halt before the door. He didn't respond, instead pressing his ear against the wood to listen. For a moment he was still, but slowly he worked the door open. Will moved a hand to his weapon, ready to use it if the need came, but Robin turned back to him and nodded.

He waited half a moment before entering, allowing Robin full access to the room. Candles were lit on the table, and along side the wall, illuminating the grand room that once had belonged to Edward. Will stayed near the door, listening intently, fearful of anyone that may approach.

Robin had moved over to the table by this time, moving the melting candles to the side as he scanned through several parchments, opening scrolls and putting them to the side. One by one, sorting and separating.

"Anything?"

Robin shook his head, glancing back up at the other man. "There are more, somewhere. Most of theses are only half-written, like they were forgotten or something."

"Anything of this importance wouldn't be left out," Will reminded him, moving up alongside of him. "There has to be something…a safe, or a chest, that he would keep them in."

"We wouldn't have the privilege of knowing of its whereabouts either."

The sound was unmistakable, and the pair froze, not daring to speak as it drew closer. The sheriff was usually overbearingly loud, so there was no telling in how close he actually was. Will already had his axe out, ready to fight. The Sheriff was easily intimidated, but the guards he had on hand were not. Even if he was alone it would give them only a few precious minutes in order to escape. It would not be easy.

"When you get a chance you get you out of here," Robin whispered to him, moving to the door.

"What? You can't be serious, I won't leave you behind."

"That's an order Will," Robin whispered fiercely, peering out the open door. "They'll follow me, you'll have enough time to escape."

"And everything I've done here would be in vain."

Robin turned back to him, shaking his head sadly. "No, you need to get back to the others, you need to find out who this noble is, and where he is coming from and intervene him. He cannot sign, you know this."

"And if I leave you, I leave you to your death," Will answered harshly.

"And if you stay," Robin nodded, walking towards him, "Then you will face your own death. No one will know of this new plot, and no one will be there to lead my men. I'm sorry, but I am making the choice here."

It was a mixture of pain and surprise. Will hadn't even had enough time to brace himself for the impact of the blow, but instead found himself flat on the ground, blood dripping off his fingers as he brought his hand away from his nose. Maybe it was because he had let his guard down, or maybe because it was he believed Robin has no real threat to anyone that he hadn't expected it at first; but the more he thought about it, the more Will realized Robin was only man who would do something such as this.

* * *

He hadn't wanted to do it; really it was only the way he could get him to listen. Or at least comply. The punch he had thrown would only stun Will for a few moments, so it was crucial on his part to hurry. Though his body ached, and his muscles screamed at the minimal exercise Robin forced himself to move.

Vaysey was not alone, accompanied by Gisborne and several guards. The look of shock and fury passed over their faces as they saw the escaped prisoner, and Robin was quick to turn and run as the shouts and alarms were raised. Robin led them away from the Sheriff's room, hoping and praying that Will would heed his order and leave while he still could.

The ache in his side was back, and his breath was short and hard to get a hold of as he turned down the long corridor. He could not outrun them for long, and he wasn't strong enough to fight, and being weaponless didn't help the situation much either. But it didn't leave him completely defenseless.

Slowing down a few paces Robin grasped one of the torches from the wall, waiting as the guards came racing down. He backed up slowly, looking as if he was ready to give up, only to thrust the burning torch up towards their faces, using the moment to knock one of the swords free.

It had been a direct hit, the two men howling as the clutched their burnt faces, dropping to the ground. Robin grasped the sword tightly as he backed up, catching Gisborne's face as the man approached.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you escaped your little prison," he sneered, "In fact I'm surprised it took you this long."

"Quite full of surprises, I assure you," Robin responded, glancing over his shoulder quickly as he continued his retreat. "It's your underestimation that gives me the greatest advantage."

Gisborne had stepped over the cowering guards now, oblivious to the state of pain that they were in. He held his own sword in his hand as he approached. Behind him Vaysey watched with a mild amusement that almost seemed like irritation.

"You have nowhere to run Hood, save for straight back to the prisons below!" Came Vaysey's cry.

"This is no fight," Gisborne told him. "I could kill you here and now, and you know it."

"But you won't," Robin told him coldly, watching as more guards rounded the corner from behind him, trapping him now. "You would rather fight the coward's battle."

"Not a coward, I just don't trust you," Gisborne told him quietly, a small smile playing on his face at memory of words. "Call it karma, if you may."

Robin said nothing, but he could remember the very words he had spoken himself. More guards had entered the already crowded hallway, Gisborne moving closer, holding his hands up, offering him the choice.

And Robin knew…knew that he would have to play this game once again, if only to find out what more he could, in hopes of passing it along. Will had gotten in once, and with any luck would already be gone. He more in likely would return, despite Robin's warnings.

As soon as he lowered his weapon he was seized, hands forced behind his back and pushed to his knees. He was afraid, he would be a fool to pretend otherwise, but he didn't have to show it upon his features. He held his calm expression even as Gisborne met his gaze.

"Take him to dungeons."

**TBC**


	8. Decisions

**Wow, didn't expect so many reviews! But I liked them so much I decided to work on the next chapter tonight. More reviews, of course, would motivate me to write the next one, and the next one (…you get the point :) )**

**With that said, enjoy!**

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**Chapter Eight: Decisions **

Pain ebbed slowly, but the shock of surprise did not. Yet he would have to give credit to the other man. This was the last thing he had expected. His nose hurt, and though it had already stopped bleeding, Will knew a bruise would form in time.

Robin had left the room shortly after striking him, moving with seemingly renewed energy. The shouts that had filled the hallway were disconcerting at best. Will knew then that there were several guards, already outnumbering the unarmed man. Shaking off the perplexing feeling, he moved to his feet, and out the door.

He had never taken in account to his wardrobe, having his weapon out, ready to fight despite Robin's words. But instead of the guards rushing him, forcing him back, they urged him along. Some were even supporting nasty words as he stood there, a look of confusion on his face.

Of course, he should have realized! The guard uniform allowed him the perfect camouflage in all of the confusion. Will didn't question it, thankful for the opportunity to get Robin out. But those thoughts died down as he rounded the corner with the small group.

There were easily two dozen guards, not to mention Gisborne who led them all. Vaysey hung back, unsurprisingly, watching as Robin was pressed back into another group of advancing guards. There were too many, in too tight of an area to try and start any form of rescue attempt.

Still he was alert, watching Robin closely for any signs of what he may do. The man was smart, but he was also bold, and a bit reckless at times. He seemed to play on a haughty air, as though he was invincible, brushing off any injuries he may receive as minor inconveniences, and nothing more. If Robin chose to fight, then Will would be right alongside him, despite the consequences.

Robin never met his gaze, fixated instead on Gisborne who was moving ever closer. Will wished he would, but refused to draw even the slightest attention to himself. Any mistake here could now cost Robin his life.

The man stood easily, stiff but without fear, unnoticing the mocking in Gisborne's voice, ignoring the taunts from the Sheriff. He was everything a leader should be, even though he believed none of his men were in his presence. He held the sword defensively, ready to move if anyone should strike, maybe even ready to strike himself. Will prayed he wouldn't. There was still a chance to get him out, but not like this, not here, and certainly not now.

But the sword clattered on the ground, and Robin was taken prisoner once again. Though he felt relieved, fear, worry and guilt also cascaded through him. He had to be quick in placing together a plan. Once Gisborne and guards had him down in the dungeons there would be little hope.

Yet he smiled, as Gisborne began the journey, ordering all the others to return to the posts. Three guards were easier than two dozen. Will began to move as the others filtered out, intent on following, but was stopped as Vaysey stepped in his path.

"Where are you going?"

The question threw him off guard, leaving him unable to answer. Surely Vaysey recognized him, now that the commotion was over, but yet he was not calling on his guards to seize him as well.

"To escort the prisoner to the dungeons," Will answered, throwing an accent into his voice, hoping to fool the man.

"The prisoner has enough escorts, don't you think? We have an important guest to attend to, or is your brain so small that you have forgotten why you were here in the first place?"

"Of course not, my Lord," Will answered quickly, allowing the little bit of relief to seep in. "I just felt the prisoner was of more importance, that is all."

"Bumbling idiots, the whole lot," Vaysey grumbled, "Go on then, Lord Barlow is waiting, and we wouldn't want to upset him, because if he gets upset, then I'll be upset, and we wouldn't want that to happen, would we?"

Will shook his head as one of the other guards answered. He could feel his heart sinking as the turned and moved down the hall, opposite of where Robin had been taken. There was no telling of what would go on down there, and he knew he must find a way, and quickly.

The walk wasn't very far, and Will had to wonder why the Lord hadn't come out when all the commotion had started. Very few people could ignore such a clamor, but then maybe the Lord wasn't so much a guest as he was a prisoner in disguise. Vaysey had a liking for that it seemed.

But he could see that was not the case when he entered the room. Barlow was seated in the corner, his walking stick laying his lap as he leaned over the small table, slowly eating the feast that had been placed before him. His body was frail, worn and old, with hair whitened and thin, sticking out in tufts where it had not disappeared completely. He had an odd crooked nose, and eyes that squinted as he turned to make out his new arrivals.

"I was beginning to think that no one would ever come."

One of the guards next to him apologized. "We had a minor inconvenience; Lord Vaysey said that you had requested assistance."

"Yes," Barlow replied quietly, pushing his plate away. "I would like to take a walk."

"A walk?"

Will had been the one to speak this time, a cross of disbelief and amusement intertwining together. Had this man really requested the aid of the guards for…a walk?

"It is dangerous for such a wealthy man of my age to be wandering about. And yes, I always go for a walk after my supper, it helps me relax. I would rather much like the company; now, come and help me up."

It was an odd request, but Will was beginning to understand. This was the Lord that Robin had spoken about, and his age gave good reasoning to why he was interested in signing over any lands he may own.

Carefully he helped the man to his feet, waiting until he had his walking stick before moving away. It seemed as though the other two had preformed this routine before, and were already out the door, leaving Will behind to stay with the slow moving man. It was unnerving, knowing with each passing moment the chances of saving Robin were slipping further and further away.

"You were not one of the three last night," the man commented quietly, edging along and out of the room. "I may be old, but I still remember a face when I see one."

"I…am taking over; the other man is home tonight, with his family."

"Ah, a good lie, but a lie none the less. There were only two last night; you were not one of them."

Will felt himself falter some. It was rare that someone caught him off guard as such. "What I meant was, someone else who was supposed to be here went home instead. That is why you have not seen me…or him."

"More lies," the man smiled, amused. "Just how long have you been a guard that you need to feel a reason to lie?"

"Lies and treason hang heavily here in Nottingham my Lord, sometimes one must commit a wrong in order to do what is right."

They had moved into the hallway, Will keeping his pace maddeningly slow. The old fellow seemed to have a hard time moving, but never once commented on it. He seemed to accept it as though it had always been a part of his life.

"And what purpose does impersonating a guard give you? You are not as callous or cold hearted as the others around here. You are lucky that no one else has keen sense such as I do. You would have never made it thus far."

"And how to do you go by acquiring such detail?" Will wondered, slowing his pace as he turned towards him.

"Years of experience my boy. Your carry yourself well; enough to prove you know how to handle yourself, yet you meld into the shadows in order to disappear. You know these corridors, I can read it in your eyes, but you only know it in the darkness of the night, as though you do not belong here. And most of all…you are walking with me, instead of ahead me. You take interest in my words, instead of passing it off as an old man's jabber. The others, they do not care, and almost seem as though they are irritated in having to assist me."

"And now that you know of my disguise," Will nodded towards him, "will you give me away I wonder?"

"And lose the first real company I've had in weeks? I think not. Call it a fair trade; your company for my silence."

He let out an impatient sigh. It was the worst of luck, but Will had no knowledge of how true the man would hold his word. If he left now, he may make it to the dungeons. After all, it would take ages for the man to find and alert any guards of his presence.

On the other hand, the less people that knew he was there, the better it would be for him. By now Robin would be already in the dungeons, and though Will had a faint idea of what would be transpiring down there, he also knew he wouldn't be able to get Robin back out until he was alone, or nearly so.

"I would take a name for starters."

It was silent for a moment before he answered. "My name is Will."

He felt comfortable divulging a little bit of information. There was a strange feeling that was building inside of him that the noble that walked next him had a fleeting trait of spotting a lie. Yet there was a difference between a lie, and withholding the truth.

The conversation was mostly one-sided, Barlow chatting as though no one had listened to him in years. When Will was prompted to answer, he did so in quiet short spurts, but honestly as he could. Will could remember Robin's words, about keeping this man from signing over his lands, but it wasn't something he could bring up just yet. Suspicion would fall on him, and there would be no telling in how pleased the Lord would be that some distant stranger knew of his plans.

He had half hoped that the topic would come up, but it never did. They had idled and talked nearly the entire walk, which to Will, seemed like an hour, but could really be no longer than half of that time. When Barlow bid his farewell, Will thanked him quietly, and peeled off into the shadows.

It was a disturbing feeling; he both favored the man's company, but loathed it as well, blaming it on the forced separation from his companion. And now the same fear he had felt the first time in entering the dungeon had returned as he reached the steps.

Once again he had his weapon ready, not knowing who, or what, he could possibly face this time. Surely Gisborne would have doubled the guards after Robin's first escape. Maybe he already knew that Robin had help in doing so. Maybe they were even waiting for him to come back down.

He swallowed his fears, and banished the thoughts from his mind. He needed to keep control of his thoughts, knowing that everything relied on his skills from here on out. Will pressed himself against the wall, melting into the shadows at the smallest of sounds.

It was an unmistakable one; he had heard it before, but never himself had felt the bite of a whip. The voice he knew too, cold and callous, mocking in between the lashes. Will already had a disheartening feeling to who the victim was.

He couldn't see though; several guards already blocked the way, and more were further down by the last cell, the same cell that he had found Robin. There was another strike, and instead of silence after there was a hushed cry. Almost as though it hadn't meant to escape, but did.

Will cursed, pulling back into the shadows, closing his eyes. He was no warrior, but he was decently skilled with his axe. But could he take them all? He had never been in a fight alone, always having someone to watch his back, call out a warning for the things he had missed.

Another crack, another stifled scream. No, he had to try, he owed Robin that much at least. Robin would come for him, would come for any of them. And he would go for Robin, and pray that everything worked out.

**TBC**

**Yeah, I'm going off to hide now…**


	9. Hope

**Quick, late night chapter, so I really haven't edited it. All mistakes are mine, and I like to thank everyone that has reviewed! I love reading the response, it makes me want to keep writing!**

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**Chapter Nine: Hope**

War had left him prepared for most things; even for trials such as this. But when Robin had left the battlefield, he had believed his days of fighting were over. Things had a funny way of changing however, and now he found himself in a far worse situation than he had back in the Holy Lands.

Hand's shackled around the metal bars, they hadn't even waited to strip him before the first lash had fallen. His wrists were sore and bloody from the constant struggle, and his back felt as though it was on fire as the blows rained on down. The ragged garment had given him little protection, and the whip worked quickly to his skin.

Gisborne walked circles about him, voicing a monologue to which Robin paid hardly any heed. His attention was drawn instead to the breath holding inside his chest, to how his hands clenched into fists, and the times in-between each blow.

Thankfully they were near even; it made it easier that way, knowing when an expected blow was about to hit. It didn't lessen the pain however. Robin pressed his forehead against the backs of his hands, biting his lip as another lash fell. As vigilant as he was, he hadn't been able to stop every cry.

His predicament now made him long for the beatings he had received earlier. At least then he could defend himself with his wit and his tongue, but now, they seemed to not want any answers as they had before. This was not an interrogation, it was torture.

But had it been worth it? Yes; that answer wouldn't change. He had been the only prisoner, and that meant Will had been able to escape. Robin could only hope the other man would heed his words and leave the castle completely.

He let out a cry, his thoughts disrupted as the whip bite into his skin once again. Mentally he cursed himself for divulging his thoughts, when he needed to concentrate on the situation at hand. The warm breath on his cheek forced him to open his eyes, turning to find Gisborne had crouched down to his level.

"You know what I couldn't figure out? Is why you didn't leave when you had the chance? Surely you must have been gone long enough to escape, seeing you had gone through all of the Sheriff's personal affects. He wasn't very happy about that either, wanted to make sure you got the message."

Robin flinched, crying out as the whip struck again, particularly hard that time. "My duties do not end just because of my predicament."

"Duties?" Gisborne laughed quietly, a look of amusement crossing his face. "What duties might those be? Rescuing poor? Helping the people you abandoned in Locksley? You could have offered them more help before you became and outlaw."

"And I would rather serve them than work along side those who are corrupt as you and Vaysey."

"As is your choice, but truly, I don't envy you at the moment."

He said nothing further, but must have motioned to the guard for the lashing had ceased. Robin let out the breath he had been holding, his eyes closing as he rested his head against the bars of his cell. He didn't even open his eyes as Gisborne laughed quietly.

"If only the King would see you now, one of his finest warriors, broken, defeated. A fraction of what he used to be. What would he say, I wonder? You should be thankful the King hasn't returned."

"If the King had returned, none of this would be happening."

"Times change Hood; no need to worry though; you won't be alive to see him return."

Gisborne stood, ordering the guards as he left the cell. "No food, no water. No one comes in here unless I say so, or you will face the same fate."

Robin couldn't have asked for anything more. Too nauseated to eat or drink he wished for nothing more than the solitude his heart yearned for. There was too much pain, and too much hurt to bear for much longer. He was certain, that if the beating had continued much longer, he truly would have broken.

The door clanged shut noisily, followed by the clicking of the lock as the last of the guards had left. Shortly after, the light that flooded the cell was diminished as the prison door was closed. He had been left, bound to the cell wall with fetters, forced into a hunched position that had allowed for maximum contact and the least amount of resistance.

At the moment, it seemed as though every fiber in his body ached. The fire that burned his back was different from the burn his legs and knees from being forced into the awkward position. The tenderness of his wrists suggested bruising, definite lacerations that made even the slightest movement painful. And the throbbing of his head refused to cease even as he tried to allow his body to lapse into a restless sleep.

The slightest touch on the back of his hands caused him to flinch, unaware that he had not been alone, and he let out a breath that was nearly a growl.

"I told you to leave."

"I tried to come sooner, they were leaving when I got down. I'm sorry."

His voice was sympathetic, full of concern. Will's hand never left his, and Robin took the silent comfort from it. But it didn't change how he felt.

"You disobeyed me," he told the other man firmly, mustering what little strength he had to keep his voice from breaking. "I gave an order."

"An order any one of us would have refused," Will spoke hastily, keeping his voice low. "We could have fought together; we could have made it out."

"No," Robin laughed despite the situation. "We wouldn't have. They would have taken us both; do you know what would have happened to you?'

"Nothing that I can't handle," he defended himself quickly.

"But it would be more than I could have handle," Robin returned just a quickly, meeting his gaze for the first time. "Don't you understand? They would have used you against me…and I'm not that strong."

"Why would you have to be?" Will cried softly, reaching up to grab the bars with his free hand. He brought his face in close, lowering his voice even more.

"Why is it that you feel you must do everything? We fight for the same cause; you, me, Little John…we fight for each other. Why must you bear all the burdens alone?"

Robin closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I am your leader, with that comes certain obligations; it is my responsibility."

"It doesn't have to be," he paused for a moment before continuing. "You give so much Robin…one day there isn't going to be anything left to give."

Robin pressed his face into the back of his hands, holding back the tears that were threatening to fall. He knew what Will spoke of was true; the very thought had been circling in his mind since Marian's departure. Somehow she had the capability of filling his heart with strength when he needed it the most. It gave him the courage to continue on, to keep on fighting in this endless fight.

Now that she was gone…

He flinched, pulling back as Will touched his bruised face gently. The fetters dug into his wrists painfully and he couldn't hold back the hiss of pain that escaped. He was stupid, how could he let himself be caught so off guard?

"I shouldn't have let you go," Will told him quietly, "This is my fault."

"No," Robin shook his head, "it was my choice; I was a fool, my pride got in the way of rational thought. I wanted to stop them; find this Lord and intercept him, force him not to sign."

"He's already in the castle."

Robin nodded, disheartened, but somehow he knew. He just hadn't wanted to believe it. "Then it is already too late; we failed."

"Maybe not; Lord Barlow, he's and English Lord, he can't have traveled far. I met with him today, I could find him again; I may be able to convince him."

"Met him?" All of the sudden his interest was peaked, and for the first time since being captured, he felt a glimmer of hope. "How? Where?"

Will was quick to fill him in on the events that had taken place after being taken to the dungeons. It wasn't much, but so much more than Robin could have hoped for. Just knowing that there might still be a chance gave him that courage he felt that he had been missing.

"If he's still here than he hasn't signed," Robin told him quietly. "The Sheriff would not board someone once he's gotten his prize. The lands wouldn't belong to the Sheriff until after his death. I fear we might have a potential murder on our hands."

"So it's not just the power the Sheriff will obtain that we have to worry about, it is also Lord Barlow's life."

"We have to stop this…"

"Robin…" Will's voice was quiet, almost pained. "I can't…these locks…I…"

Robin was already nodding, "I know."

"I can't get you out of here, not without the keys. Gisborne took them with him."

"Then it is up to you; find Barlow, get him out of here. The sooner you move the better; every day I'm sure the Sheriff is getting closer to signing the deal."

"What about you?"

He gave the other man a small smile, "Don't worry about me. I'll figure something out, I have a plan."

"No you don't."

"Still working on it," Robin answered, "now go, before they find you."

"I will be back," Will promised him, clasping his hand one last time.

"Just go."

He could feel his heart sinking even as he said those last words. He felt so small, so weak and helpless it was hopeless to describe. His fears, and weaknesses had surfaced at the moment when he was the most vulnerable, for someone that he had to be strong for. Surely Will would tell the others, and it was a troubling thought to what they would presume. After all…how could he lead when he wasn't strong enough?

How could he lead if he couldn't come out of this alive?

**TBC**


	10. Fading Hope

**Another quick chapter here, with a rough edit. Love reading all the reviews that keep coming in. I've answered/responded to a few of you already about some questions you've had, and liked to thank everyone for taking the time to review. It really does inspire me to want to write more.**

**Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to review!! :D**

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**Chapter Ten: Fading Hope**

It was a nauseating feeling; the guilt that tore at him was unimaginable. Will worked his way quickly out of the castle, but the more he distanced himself, the closer the feelings came. He was coward…there was no other way to put it.

He hadn't forced Robin along, due to fear of pushing him too far too soon. Instead of brandishing his weapon and fighting hand to hand he had allowed Robin to be taken. Instead of going to his aid he hidden in the shadows; the screams and cries still plagued his memories.

Will knew he would never be free of the grief he felt; he would always carry the blame with him till the end of his days. Things would be even worse if Robin didn't make it…

Nearly outside he paused; the thought hadn't occurred to him until now, and it cut straight through to his heart. Perhaps that statement wasn't entirely true; he supposed it had crossed his mind, but he hadn't taken the time to think about it. Not until now, at least.

What would happen then? Would the group hold together, would they stay strong? Or would all the blame rest on him, as it should? No doubt he would be cast away, forgotten, exiled maybe. Will closed his eyes, shaking his head. He was already playing this as if Robin had been assigned a death sentence, and all at his own hands. If they were going to get through this, and get Robin out, he needed to keep his head clear, and set his fears aside.

He met up with Alan back where he had left him, taking off the helmet for the first time since putting it on. "Surprised to see you still here."

"I can follow an order," Allan responded with a shrug. "Besides, I didn't want it be my head getting cut off. What did you find?"

"He's alive," Will told him quietly, motioning for him to walk.

"Where is he?"

"The dungeons; Gisborne's holding him prisoner."

"Well we got to get him out; you know what they'll do to him."

Will nodded, "I know." T_hey already have, _he thought drearily. "We have other problems as well. We need to find the others, and quickly."

* * *

The fire burned low, crackling as it licked at the last few logs on the pile. It gave little warmth, but it was the light they all sought after. The group wasn't hard to find; in fact they nearly ran into each. The departure of the two hadn't been as quiet as Will had thought.

The news of Robin's survival stirred a mixture of reactions. From joy to worry, and hope that quickly turned into the criticism that Will had expected. He didn't blame them, nor did he try to defend himself against the curses and accusations. He still blamed himself, and hardly noticed Allan voicing reasons for Will's decision.

There was no argument, of course. They would go back for Robin; and the sooner the better. The how was still uncertain; everyone had different ideas, but attempting any such mission without Robin's guidance would be tricky. The last time they had tried, it had ended in a miserable failure. Will knew, better than anyone here, that a failure could cost Robin his life.

Will hadn't brought up Robin's condition yet. It wasn't an easy thing to explain, but he knew he would have to, in order to avoid not only shock, but possible complications that would arise during the rescue attempt. Unsure of how to begin, he turned instead to the matter of the English Lord.

No one took great interest in it, their worry and concern for Robin and only Robin. But Will refused to turn away; he had given Robin his word that he would do what he could; and it was word he wasn't willing to turn away from. Finally, with Djaq's help, Will was finally able to explain all he knew to listening ears.

Silence hung in the air around them as Will finished the last of his words, hands clasped together, resting on his knees. He hadn't bothered changing, knowing he would be returning to the castle soon. And he was quite sure that worn tired faces staring back at him matched his own complexion.

"What does a Lord signing his lands over have anything to do with the Sheriff gaining more power?" Allan wondered.

"The more lands he has, the more people. The more people, the more taxes," Will explained quietly.

"The more taxes, the more money spent on gaining power," Djaq finished. "Robin is right; we must stop him, but how?"

"Well I don't care if we stop him. Robin is my Master, he is your leader, for all of you. He comes first!"

Will sympathized with the other man. Much was closer to Robin than any of them, and the news of his survival, though it had brought him much joy, had also brought much anguish and desperation. If it hadn't been for the others, Much would already be storming the castle single-handedly.

"We get Robin out," Little John agreed.

The others nodded in agreement. Will could already see their minds had been made up. He was thankful, if not grateful; but he couldn't deny the frusteration that lingered inside of him. Robin was right about Barlow, but so was Much about tending to their own men before others.

"We will have to do both at the same time then," Will told them quietly. "If Lord Barlow signs, there is no telling what could possibly happen. If we leave Robin, we may not get him back alive."

"How can we do both at the same time?" Djaq asked.

Another moment of silence passed before Will sighed. "I've spoken with Lord Barlow before; I believe that he trusts me, and would listen if I asked. I will find him. We will need someone to get Robin out; and of course an escape route. We will only have one chance at this."

"I will go," Much said quickly. "I will get Robin out."

"No," Will shook his head. "We need strength, that's why I want you to go John. And Allan, we need quick hands. Gisborne's carrying the key with him. It's the only way you'll get Robin out. Djaq and Much…I need you two to get us all out. We need horses."

"What if he does not come with you? What if he tells the Sheriff you are working for Robin?"

The concern was clear in Djaq's voice, her gaze meeting with Will's.

"I will be able to get back out."

"And with Robin fighting, we shouldn't have any problems either."

Will took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. He hadn't thought about what to tell them, or how, but he knew that he had too.

"He may not be able."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Much demanded quickly, his attention now focused solely on Will. "Of course he can fight! Can't he?"

"He's hurt," Will stated quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, "pretty bad. I don't know how much strength he has left."

"You shouldn't have left him there!" Much cried, "I wouldn't have. He wouldn't have left you!"

"I would have gotten him out if I could," Will said quickly, moving to his feet, "but I can't. That's why I came back for help."

"You just want to save this…this English Lord. You don't care about Robin; he would be here if you did!"

"That's not true," Will cried. "I was the one who went to the castle; I was the one who found him. I was there when they captured him, and I was there when they…when they…"

He shook his sadly, sitting back down. He couldn't finish it, couldn't say those words. The memory was still too fresh in his mind. Will pressed his face into his hands, closing his eyes, trying to banish them away. A hand touched his shoulder gently, and he turned to meet Djaq's gaze.

"You are not a failure Will Scarlet; we will get him out," she said quietly, as though she knew the troubles that plagued him.

Will let out the breath he had been holding, nodding at her statement. They would get him out, they had to. "We go tonight."

* * *

The heavy breaths echoed throughout the dungeons, laced with the pain that the victim could clearly feel. For the other prisoners who resided there, the entire ordeal had been stomach churning. Punishments were never held out to such a degree, and the man had suffered deeply. Whatever his crime had been, must had been severe in order to obtain such a whipping.

But there was new information that had filtered down into the dungeons. The talk of a hanging. Whispers were made between the cells for those who dared to speak, and they all knew in their hearts who would be leaving the very next morning at first light. If the beaten, broken prisoner had heard their words, he showed no interest.

Maybe it was a curse, or maybe it was a blessing. For though death was the end of this life, it was also the end of the pain one was enduring. And the pain, they all knew, was great in the lone man's case. They had listed to his quiet cries, and mummer of words that lingered in his cell until they had died down into the pained breaths that were now filling the darkness.

But night was nearly over now, and dawn was coming closer with each moment. The time would come, as they knew, as it always did when the guards would enter with shackles, and single, plain hood. The man would see one last glimpse of the sky, of the freedom that was so close, and yet too far away to properly taste, before everything would come to an end.

At the top the stairs, the door opened, and the soft gray colors of the early morning sky flooded in, signaling that the time had come.

**TBC**


	11. Death Like Dawn

**Wonderful responses, and another quick chapter in return. Another rough edit, so all mistakes are mine.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Eleven: Death Like Dawn**

There were three of them; moving silently like shadows, clinging to the walls, slipping inside the doors. Night was fading, and soon the early rays of the morning sun would be gracing the earth for the start of the new day. If they moved quickly enough, they could use the busy streets of the morning market to cover their tracks when they left.

Will paused just before he slipped inside, glancing back to where Much and Djaq stood quietly, tending to the horses they had freed from guards outside of the town. It had been hard convincing him to wait; Djaq knew of the importance, and Will was fairly sure that Much knew as well, but knowing one thing, and doing it, were two very different things.

Djaq had helped though, somehow reading Will's mind, knowing it was for the best. They had to do this quickly, and quietly, and Much was neither of those things, especially in times of panic, and even more so when it directly involved Robin. Things would hard enough for Allan and John as it was.

With the last thought Will slipped inside, parting ways with the other two men. They had all donned guard uniforms, save for John who preferred his own wardrobe. Then again, there were very few who would willing stand up to such a man, and for those who did, most of them lost and quickly.

On the way back to the castle, Will had spent most of his time explaining what he knew to the pair. Getting the key would be hardest part, he knew, but he trusted Allan's ability, and John's sheer strength if things should go poorly. He also informed them of Robin's exact whereabouts, and did the best he could to describe his situation. Still he knew it would be a shock to them when they would find the battered man.

These were the thoughts that occupied his mind, the same thoughts he had to push aside as he turned down the last hallway. His task was just as difficult. It would be up to him to convince the English Lord not to sign away possession of his lands, to a man that clearly had him convinced to do so. The Sheriff was a lot of things, including a trickster and a deceiver.

Will paused for a moment, trying to decide if he wanted to knock first, or to just enter. He was a Lord after all, and probably would appreciate the courtesy, but then again, this was no time for a pleasant chat, or a quiet stroll as they had taken the evening before. Shaking his head, Will pushed his way in, disappearing from the hall.

* * *

He was always quick on his feet, and even quicker on his hands. Allan knew that if he was only as quick with his tongue, and convincingly so, he would be quite possibly one of the best thieves around. No, that was too harsh of a word…he was more of an artist. After all, it took quite a bit of skill to accomplish what he could do.

He and John had traveled the halls quickly, avoid what guards they could, and taking out those they couldn't. Part of him was quite thankful for John's assistance, feeling much more at ease than he ever would if he happened to be alone. It made him wonder almost how Will had accomplished this journey the first time. Allan didn't spend much time worrying though, having reached Gisborne's room.

John stood guard by the door, watching as he had slipped inside. The darkness welcomed him eerily, forcing Allan to wait by the closed door until his eyes adjusted. Quiet breaths, followed by soft snores filled the room, reassuring the man that the occupant of the room was indeed sound asleep. That was good, it was in his favor, and with a nod to himself he began his search.

It was amusing almost; Allan would have figured the Sheriff's right hand man would have a room that…accommodated him more. Bare floors, a simple bed, and an old table set in one corner. Perhaps this was the reason he had moved into Locksley, when he wasn't attending business in the castle that was.

Long days, and even longer nights left little time for travel between the towns, and Allan could understand why he chose to stay here. He was glad of it too, not wanting to know how far behind they would be if having to travel to more than one village in the same night.

It had been Will's call to be truthful. Allan hadn't been sure of Gisborne's whereabouts, but Will had pushed the idea that he would still be in the castle. He had pointed out; after all, that Gisborne wouldn't stray too far from his prisoner, especially knowing he had escaped once. Will had also advised him to tread carefully; Gisborne may also be aware of a rescue attempt.

If he was, he sure wasn't too concerned about it. Still fully clothed the man slept lightly on top of the covers, gloved hands folded across his chest. The key, he could see, was tied to string, looped around his neck. Allan had to keep himself from laughing. It all seemed too easy.

Removing it would take skill, but skill was something he had, in this department at least. Grasping the string in one hand he held a small section between his fingers, pulling free his sword, and gently frayed the rope. All the while he kept a close eye on Gisborne, who at the current moment had taken to snoring loudly.

With a few more quick strokes, the string was broken, and Allan slipped the key off easily, sliding it into his pocket as he backed off. John was still guarding the door when he came out. A quiet nod from him told Allan it was clear, and the two took off quickly down the hall, ready to reunite their group once more.

* * *

The old man was…perplexed to say the least. He sat on his bed, still dressed in evening clothes, a look of amusement on his face. Will had explained everything he could, rushing as fast as he dared. As much as this was important, his mind was on other events, listening intently for any cries of distress or calls for help. There would be telling what would happen if things went wrong.

"I traveled days to get here son," Barlow told him quietly, hands folded over one another, resting on his small wooded walking stick. "An old fellow like me doesn't move very quickly, and long rides hurt my back. Now you want me to just turn around and leave?"

"If you are loyal to the King, and you want what is best for your people, then yes. The Sheriff cares nothing for them; he only wishes to rob them of what is rightfully theirs."

"You wouldn't even tell me a truthful answer the last time we met, and yet you wish for me to trust you? It sounds a bit skeptical to me. Your Sheriff, that you so detest, has shown me around Nottingham when I first arrived; no one seemed hungry or poor then."

"It is a ruse my Lord; I have seen the villages, I know what they truly look like. I know what the people there feel, for I have felt it too. The long winters, and not knowing when your next meal would come. I know what it feels like to watch someone die a little everyday, and never come back. I know how it feels when those who are supposed to protect you, and keep you safe, instead drive fear through your heart. No one should have to live in such fear, least of all your people. They deserve better, don't you agree?"

"I am old; I have no sons to watch the land for me. I cannot leave my people without rule. Even a harsh ruler is better than no rule at all. Guidance, even at its worst, is still guidance."

"But surely there is someone else," Will argued. "A friend, someone devoted to the lands. If you give your lands to the Sheriff, you are not only risking your own life, but England's welfare as well."

It was silent for a moment while Barlow thought it over. Will could see the man contemplating and silently urged the man to agree. Minutes passed, stretching out the long silence, but finally the man nodded, slowly.

"You are not a guard, and not even on the right side of the law if I am to believe what you say. But you sound sincere, and that makes a man true at heart, better than any King or Noble in my eyes. If you are so certain of this, then I will take my business elsewhere."

"The sooner the better," Will encouraged him, relief spreading through him quickly. "The Sheriff does not take kindly to those who back out of such matters, especially one such as this. If you need any aid…"

"There will be no need," Barlow interrupted him; "I can still remember my young days when I snuck into barns and fields. As well, the guards hardly recognize me as it is. I will be gone and away before they even notice. Even at my slow pace. After all, I can sense you have other matters to attend to, I fear your help might be needed to help him escape."

"How…" Will started, but was cut off once again.

"A wise man looks with his ears, and listens with his heart. The trick is to be invisible out in the open. Anyone would say anything if they feel you are not a threat. Now go; I must pack my things."

* * *

The first door was easy. The lock simple and easy to maneuver. One would think by now they would have improved it, seeing the numerous times they had broken in. Still, Allan would use their lack of effort to his gain.

John went in first, Allan following behind down the narrow staircase. He had been here before, locked up as a prisoner, awaiting trail. Allan could remember it all too clearly. Having been sentenced to hang, mostly due to his own lie, curse it all. Still, Robin had saved his life that day, Allan figured he owed him this much at least. Then again, Robin seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble.

"In the back," John nodded towards him, moving quickly by the cells that held other prisoners.

Allan knew it as well. Will had been clear where he was. Still, there was something wrong. He had first gotten the feeling upon reaching the dungeon, and now it was growing. It turned quickly from concern, to downright worry. The last cell was empty.

"Maybe he got out," Allan suggested, needing to hear his own words to convince himself. "I mean, he's done that before, right?"

"Something's not right," John argued, shaking his head. "No guards, no jailer…"

"They took 'em already…"

The voice startled them both, John stepping up in front of Allan in case of any threat. But the voice belonged to a mere prisoner, watching them now with interest.

"Interesting fellow 'e was. They were quite interested in 'em, they were. Never 'eard anything like it before. What did 'e do?"

"Who is 'they'?" Allan asked quickly, "and where did they take him?"

The prisoner laughed, almost as though Allan had sprout off a joke. "The same place they take everyone when yer time is up. The last faithful walk, the same one every time."

"I'm not being funny, but that doesn't even make sense," Allan argued, "You mean they let him go? Are we even talking about the same person I wonder?"

"A good day for a 'anging, wouldn't ye agree?"

"Robin," John said quickly, "the gallows."

"Can't be," Allan argued, "surely…"

"We go," John told him, moving for the stairs, "now!"

* * *

Will had left the Lord with best wishes, keeping in mind the very words he had spoken. There was a mixture a feelings, of wanting to stay with him and making sure he made it out safely, and part of him not wanting to care, to only focus his efforts on getting Robin out of here.

He moved with quick strides down the hall, to the point of almost running, but not quite. Light was beginning to filter in, making the way easier to see, but likewise, it also meant occupants of the castle would soon be waking. That meant it would be harder to navigate the corridors with ease, and harder to attempt any profound escape.

It was almost as if on cue, the familiar voice flooded the hallway; this was early, even for the Sheriff. And the fact he was waking Gisborne was an unpleasant sign. His first thoughts of course went to Allan and John. Had they been caught?

His quick stride turned into a run then, moving about the hallways with ease. He knew these passages by heart, and he didn't even have to slow. If they were caught, they would be in the dungeons no doubt, he had to hurry.

But those notions were dashed as he rounded the next corner, skidding to a halt as he nearly met head on with the pair he suspected being caught. Curses were exchanged of both sides, swords drawn and quickly lowered as they recognized each other as they caught their breath and tamed their pounding hearts.

"Where is he?"

"You go me, but John thinks," Allan started, shaking his head.

"Not there, the gallows!" John interrupted.

"What?!"

He couldn't have heard that right. Will had been there that night with Robin, and Gisborne had said nothing of the sort. Surely he would have, if anything to fuel the fear that must had been inside of Robin. Then for sure, if Robin knew, he would have said…would have told him.

Will closed his eyes; of course he wouldn't have. Robin cared too much for everyone else; he would have kept it quiet, no matter what the price would be. "When?"

It was folly to even ask. The three were already moving, not caring now if they were heard or even spotted. If there was a chance, then they could waste no time.

The light of the morning greeted them, shadowed by the clouds that hung in the sky. They could see the gallows from there, ready and waiting, a pair of guards dragging the struggling victim between them, already bound and hooded, ready for the execution.

"Robin!"

Will hadn't even noticed it was he who had cried out, witnessing the sight before them. They were nearly there, the guards having reached the wooden stairs. A few more steps and the hanging would begin.

With a cry John raced down the stairs, snapping Will from his trance. Allan was next, Will taking up the rear, weapon drawn, ready to save him. But it wouldn't be that easy.

Even before they reached the ground, they were surrounded. Will hadn't even heard the alarm, but there was no other explanation. He stopped the first blow, sidestepping the next, dealing his own in the process. Avoiding bloodshed, as he had in the past, was nothing he was seeking this time.

Hard and heavy blows, precise, and fast and efficiently as he could. There was no time in this battle for that, no time…they needed more time!

Knocking aside another guard he dealt the fatal blow, risking a glance back at the gallows. Robin was still fighting, still resisting, an amazing feat considering how tired he must be. But it was in vain, all of it was, for the noose had already been slipped about his head.

Will ducked another blow, just barely, Little John taking care of the guard that nearly had done him in. Normally he would have thanked him, but Will's mind was elsewhere. He caught sight of Allan, who was using his sword as best as he could, but that wasn't what Will was after.

"Allan! Your bow, quick!"

The execution had already begun, each precious moment ticking away, and still they were in the fray of the guards. Allan followed his gaze, shaking his head sorrowfully.

"It's no use, I can't get my bow out, there's too many of them," he cried, knocking down another guard, gearing up to face another one. "Even if I could, I can't get a clear shot, I might hit him!"

"He's dead if you don't!" Will yelled back, "John! Clear a way for Allan!"

But the bigger man was shaking head, moving back towards Will as a new wave of guards closed in. "We go back."

"There's still time! There's still a chance!" Will cried, nearly begging now. They were so close; they couldn't give up, not now.

John shook his head again, "It's over."

And true it was, the shadow the of the body hung limp, swaying lightly, sending an eerie chill down all their spines, and straight into their stomachs. It was sickening, almost as though it was they themselves who had been led to the gallows. Worse than failing to get Robin out, they had led themselves straight into a trap; and now there was no one to help them.

**TBC**

**Remember, reviews make chapters appear faster!**

**(Is now going off to hide)**


	12. What's Lost, Is Found

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! You coaxed me out of hiding long enough to write another chapter!**

**Another rough edit; one of these days I'm actually going to edit for real, seriously :P**

**Enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: What's Lost, is Found**

Backs pressed up against each other they fought hard to stay alive. In combination with their weariness, their greatest fears confirmed, and their awkward position on the stairs they were beginning to tire. Worst of all, the guards seemed to know this, and were toying with them, much like a cat toys with a mouse before delivering the fatal blow.

Adrenaline was rushing through his veins, giving him the last bit of strength he needed; but Will knew in his mind that it wasn't enough. Slowly but surely the three were separated, pressed back into opposite corners, one being forced back up the stairs. Will had stopped dealing his own blows, instead concentrating now on defending himself. Even as his back pressed against the wall he wasn't so willing to give up.

Sidestepping one strike, he ducked under another, using the handle of his axe to stop another incoming blade. A quick sweep of his foot dropped the other man down, and Will stepped hurriedly over the fallen form. He didn't get far, but at least now he wasn't trapped against the wall.

He had turned though, facing the gallows that held the one lone figure, still as the death itself, and the sight sent a churning chill through his stomach. Quickly he shook his head, trying to banish the image away, but the distraction had cost him.

A blow to the back of the head sent him reeling, and he lost his footing as another guard tripped him. Within seconds he lay flat on his back, weaponless as his axe went skidding across ground, bumping into the wall. With little time to react, he dodged the sword that clattered into the ground next to him, kicking out with his feet to stop another.

Using the moment he rolled to his side, keeping low and scooting to where his weapon lay unnoticed. But he had hardly gotten there when a blade of sword pressed against his neck menacingly. There was little he could do, and did what was best in any sort of that situation. He surrendered.

Forced onto his back, Will met the gaze of the weapon's handler, being none other than Gisborne. Dressed in black he was a far cry from the pale morning light, and the smile on his face was anything but welcoming.

"Enough," Gisborne held out his free hand, signaling his guards to cease any fighting. It wasn't surprising, Allan and John weren't fairing any better than he was at the current moment, and they were more alive than dead.

"Now really Gisborne, the next time you have a party in the castle, you should remember to invite your dear old Sheriff. They are always much more exciting than mine."

"Outlaws my Lord," Gisborne reported, his eyes as well as his sword never leaving Will. "Trying to rescue Hood no doubt."

Vaysey nodded thoughtfully, coming to stand up next to Gisborne. He looked Will over quickly, turning then to scout out Allan and John before turning back to Gisborne.

"I only count three; surely Robin would have more men than that? No matter, we can all look forward to lovely afternoon in the gallows, now couldn't we?" Vaysey stated gleefully, grinning down at Will. "Oh, and by the way, you're too late. You're beloved Hood has started the party without you!"

Will felt the disgust growing in him as the Sheriff motioned towards the gallows, clapping merrily with a proud smile. "He was, shall we say, a little 'hung' up that you weren't here to save him."

"I am going to kill you," Will warned quietly, glaring up at the man.

"Oh, you are? Exactly how are you going to accomplish that I wonder."

"Just wait," Will answered quietly, trying to keep his emotions at bay. He felt like crying, screaming, and strangling the life out of the very man all at the same time. Truth to be told, it was overly exhausting. As much as he wanted to keep to his words, Will knew that by the end of the day, they would more in likely be dead. There was hope though, Much and Djaq were still out there; surely they would try.

"I do think though," Vaysey turned to Gisborne, interrupting Will's thoughts, "we should take care of them now. Hmm? What do you say Gisborne? Then afterwards we can go in and have a lovely breakfast, what do you say?"

He felt his heart sink, moving back as much as he dared, watching as the blade followed him inch by inch. Will knew that everything could be over in moments, and he chanced a glance over at Allan and John. Both of them were disarmed, surrounded by guards with their weapons to strike upon the given word.

"A public hanging," Gisborne answered. "It'll discourage anyone thinking of turning to the wrong side of the law."

"Blah de blah de blah," Vaysey droned, "no one cares. Get over it; I'm hungry, breakfast is waiting, finish it now."

There was confliction in Gisborne's eyes, as though the man didn't want it to end, but at the same time wouldn't go against the Sheriff's words. Suddenly Gisborne pulled back, and for a fleeting moment Will believed they might have a chance to escape. But it was quickly dashed as Gisborne brought the blade down hard, Will moving even as it came down, as feeble as a hope it was.

But the blade never found flesh, instead clattering with metal, catching Gisborne off guard as a whirl of blades entered the fight. Caught off guard Gisborne was pushed back, Vaysey wasting no time in ducking behind him for cover.

"Breakfast will have to wait Vaysey!"

"Robin!" Will cried out as the voice hit his ears, staring in disbelief. Dressed in a hooded cloak he held his sword at arms length, placing himself between he and Gisborne, giving Will the time he needed to get to his feet.

Along with him, Djaq and Much were now in the fray, working quickly to free to Allan and John. The guards themselves were just as surprised, several of them retreating without even an order, others simply given up. For those that did not, they were dispatched easily between the group now.

Gisborne still stood in the same place, Vaysey peaking out from behind him, regarding Robin with both disdain and confusion.

"It can't be," Gisborne said quietly, "You're alive."

"Am I?" Robin questioned, "I hadn't realized."

"Gisborne," Vaysey whispered over his shoulder, "If Hood is there, _who_ is there?" he motioned pointedly towards the gallows.

Now on his feet, axe in hand, Will watched in disbelief as Robin laughed, "I think you'll find yourself short of a jailer, if I might say so."

Vaysey laughed worriedly, "My jailer? MY JAILER! Gisborne you idiot! How could you hang my jailer?!"

"It wasn't me my Lord," Gisborne defended himself, watching Robin warily. "No doubt Hood had something to do with this."

"If you want something done right, you should do it yourself," Robin encouraged them quietly. "Your guards, it's almost too easy."

"Well then, we'll keep that in mind," Vaysey agreed sarcastically, "Now get him Gisborne, and don't screw up this time!"

No sooner than those words were spoken the fight had begun, seemingly as though it had never even stopped. This time though, they were more balanced, a new surge of hope coursing through them at this miracle that was too good to be true. Will fought now, side by side with Robin who was matching the blows easily. Even though he put up a good façade, it was easy for Will to see he was quickly slowing.

The guards were easy in such few numbers, but Gisborne seemed to be out for blood and had come down hard on Robin. A few swings caught him off balanced, and Gisborne used the butt of his blade to smash first into his side, and then into his back, purposefully aggravating fresh wounds.

As he fell though, Will was there to defend him. A newfound strength raced through him as he matched Gisborne blow for blow, striking harder with each and every thrust of his own blade. Soon he had the man pressed against a wall, the same situation Will had been in a few moments prior. And now he was after his own blood, and brought his axe up suddenly, ready to put and end to it all.

But Gisborne was just as quick, and did the last the thing expected. Turning he jumped over the stone wall, landing free and clear on the ground below with a short cry. Will was ready to follow, but Robin's voice broke above the fray and cut through his irrationality, bringing him back to reason.

"Fall back! Let's move!"

John was the first to move, taking out what guards he could on his way, Allan and Djaq shortly behind him. Much was right alongside his master, ready to offer help if it was needed. Will took a firm grip on his axe, moving behind them, pausing to search the grounds for any sign of the Sheriff. No doubt the animal had scurried back into the castle where it was safe.

There would be time to worry about that later, for now they were in an open run. By now the others had already reached the gate, mounting the horses that had been left ready and waiting. Still behind, Will spurred himself on, watching as the first part of the group rode out, disappearing from sight. He could see Robin and Much mounting their own horses, Robin calling out for him to hurry.

Will didn't need to look to see why. He could hear Gisborne calling for more reinforcements, and no doubt they would be here shortly. Nearly at the gate however, his path was blocked, a deep chestnut horse rearing as he was pulled harshly to a stop. Already taking a defensive stance, Will was ready to fight. Except this new stranger was not.

Instead he reached out, urging him to grab on. With little time for formalities, Will found himself at a loss. Behind him Gisborne and his guards were approaching, the first set of arrows being notched in the bows as they took aim. Skepticism, he decided, would have to wait till later.

He grasped the newcomer's arm, allowing himself to be pulled onto the horse. No sooner than he was on they were racing through the gate. The metal bars themselves were falling, having been dropped per Gisborne's orders, but they were well passed the gate by the time it made contact with the ground.

That move alone would give them ample time to make an escape. Will held onto the back of the cape of the man that come to his aid. The man could be no older than he was, and for sure Will would have remembered anyone that would dare affiliate with them in such an instance. But he would save the questions for later, and instead urged him on to catch the fleeing group.

Once out of Nottingham the forest was a welcoming sight. The others had pulled to a stop, following Robin's lead as he dismounted quickly. Will had done so as well as soon as possible, catching his breath as they sent the horses fleeing back to the castle. He knew it was for the best; if Gisborne and his men followed, which they surely would, their tracks would be easier to hide.

"Groups, we meet back at the cave," Robin breathed, wasting no time in assume the role he had always held as leader.

"Master no," Much shook his head. "I won't leave you."

"Go, now!"

"I won't lose you again, I won't," Much argued quietly, shaking his head.

Robin had clasped his arm gently, meeting his gaze. "I will be there, you have my word. Now go, and quickly."

The other man was quiet, but nodded finally after a moment, moving with Djaq as she disappeared into the forest. John and Allan had also parted, leaving Will alone with Robin and stranger. It was this man that broke the silence first, swinging a small pack over his shoulders.

"We need to go as well; no doubt they'll be behind us before long."

Robin nodded in agreement, still catching his breath, glancing his way as Will came closer.

"Who is he?"

The question had been burning on his mind, but it wasn't until now he had been able to ask. He felt more at ease now, seeing that Robin not only knew him, but trusted him as well. Still, Robin's judgment wasn't always the best, Will knew several times it had done them in for the worse.

"Sarah's grandson," Robin answered, nodding towards the other man. "Let's move."

"Who's Sarah?" Will pushed, following him as Robin moved by him.

"A friend."

* * *

They moved steadily, but at a decent pace. It wasn't Robin himself who had set it, but he knew the others would not push him. While they walked, Robin began the long and painful process of telling his story. From the raid on Knighton Hall, to the very morning just moments before the attempted rescue, leaving out bits of pieces he deemed too private or personal to share.

When the cell had opened that morning he had been certain it was Gisborne, or even the jailer that had been fetching him. He had heard the other prisoners speaking throughout that night, and he knew what was to come.

But it hadn't been either of them. Instead it had been Sarah, the same woman who had tended his wounds the time before, along with her grandson Collin. Working in the castle he had easily acquired the keys to the cell, and made short work of releasing Robin from his bonds.

_'This is the help I had promised' _Sarah had told him quietly.

Robin had been tired, on top of that his back had still burned fiercely, but even so he forced himself to go. Leaving wasn't so easy; they hadn't been completely undetected. But having trained for the possibility to fight in the Holy Lands Collin had been undeniably good with a weapon.

A few hits and the man had been left unconscious on the ground. It was then, when disguising the jailer as Robin that the guards had come in searching for the prisoner. With quick thinking, Collin and slipped a simple hood over the jailer's head, pushing Robin back into the shadows.

"They never checked to see who it was?" Will questioned, walking into a clearing.

"Gisborne's orders," Collin answered quietly, pulling his hood over his short brown hair as the first drops of rain began to fall. "Most of the guards there fear going against his words. They've seen what happens to those who do."

"I do remember something about you calling me 'pathetic'," Robin interjected between the pair.

"I had to make it believable," Collin confessed, adjusting the pack on his shoulder. "Seems like something he would have said."

"It does you know," Will agreed, causing Robin to only shrug indifferently. "Still," Will continued, "I don't understand. You work for the Sheriff, but you're helping us?"

"I work for the King," Collin corrected him, "regardless where he may be. Our entire family has always served England, whether it be as a maid in the kitches, or a warrior in the King's Royal Guard itself. It's in our blood. My mother died when I was young, my grandmother practically raised me herself. My father is fighting in Holy Lands; I hope to join him soon."

"I grew up on stories, such as Robin's; of the gratitude of the Nobles that actually cared for those who couldn't protect themselves. When my grandmother came to me with what had happened there wasn't any other way I would have gone about it."

"We were nearly out of the castle when we ran into Much and Djaq," Robin finished. "I figured you may need some help."

He turned back to look at the pair, almost amused at how similar the two looked. Collin would only be a few years younger than Will, but he near Little John's height, though not as big of a build. Truth be told he was grateful for both of their company, despite wanting solitude earlier. It was the reason he had sent Much with Djaq. Though the man was close to his heart, Robin didn't have the energy to keep up with his attentiveness at the current moment.

Taking the lead again Robin pushed on, eager to rest for the first time in what seemed like forever. His body ached and burned, his legs wobbling with every step that he took. It almost hurt to breathe, but at the same time it felt as though he wasn't getting enough air. For a moment he stopped, leaning his forehead against the trunk of a tree.

"Robin?"

The hand that touched the back of his neck was cold, and felt nice against his heated flesh. He had taken his hood off a while back, needing to find relief from the fever that had started to build up inside of him. Quietly he swallowed, meeting Will's concerned gaze.

"I just need a moment."

Will nodded, but didn't pull away. Closing his eyes again Robin took in a deep breath, trying to sort things out in his mind. He couldn't remember his last meal, or the last time he actually slept. That with all of his recent injuries, and the sudden unexpected fight and flight into the forest, everything was catching up with him. All of it had been too much, far too soon.

Suddenly, he didn't feel so well.

"We need to get him out of this weather, and soon."

It was Collin that spoke, breaking the silence that seemed to last only mere seconds. Robin knew it had been longer than that though, he could tell by the worry in his voice, it was the same worry he could see in Will's eyes.

"The cave's not too far," Will nodded towards him, wrapping and arm around his waist, careful of the wounds to his back.

Even still, he cringed. There was no point in denying it, or even trying to hide it. Robin took the offer of help despite the pain, wrapping an arm around Will's shoulders for added support as they began to make their way up the last hill.

**TBC**


	13. At The End Of Days

**And the next installment…**

**Hope you enjoy, don't forget to review!**

* * *

**Chapter 13: At the End of Days**

The dark dampness of the cave greeted them eerily. Outside the rain fell heavily, as it always seemed to do, casting the warmth from the air. As Will helped Robin inside, Collin took the lead, sweeping the cave for any potential unwanted visitors. They were the first ones there, and Will knew it was only a matter of minutes before the others would start arriving; pray tell that they hadn't run into any trouble.

Will waited by the entrance as Collin searched, still supporting most of Robin's weight. The man was still conscious, but barely so, the day's events catching up with him in a frightening crash. He was warm to the touch, and there wasn't any doubt in Will's mind that Robin was running a fever, most likely induced from his untreated wounds. Even though Robin had made it out of the castle alive, these next few days would test his strength, as well as the rest of theirs, to whether or not he survived.

Only when Collin gave him the signal that everything was clear did Will move in. The heavy breaths that came from Robin were laced with pain with each step, due mostly from the support that was offered. Will had been as careful as possible, but he had seen a glimpse of the work Gisborne had done to his back and knew that very little had been left unscathed.

Collin had dropped his pack, returning from the back of the cave with an armful of blankets and beddings. The same ones that had been left there after the night Marian had been stabbed. Had it really been that long since they were last here? The question ran through his mind as the man spread the blankets on the ground, reaching out to help Robin down.

"We need a fire," Collin told him quietly, to which Will agreed with a nod, one hand resting on Robin's shoulder.

"There is dry wood in the back of the cave; we always replenish the stock after using it. Robin never wanted to be caught off guard when the weather changed."

"Good thinking," Collin voiced, glancing over as the others began to arrive. Will could feel some of the tension lifting as Djaq and Much moved in quickly, removing their own cloaks that were drenched in rain. As Collin backed off to gather the wood, the Saracen wasted little time in covering the gap between them.

Will's hand had never left Robin's shoulder and he turned gaze over the still man as Djaq came up behind him. They had laid him down on his stomach to prevent any further aggravation to his wounds, and the man was already asleep. Djaq placed a hand on Robin's forehead, wiping away the wet strands of hair that clung to his face.

"We need to get him dry; he needs to be dry."

"How," Much asked quickly, "Everything we have is wet."

"In the bag," Collin interrupted, carrying the wood in from the back. "You will find some dry clothes, bandages and food. It is not much, but what my grandmother could give. It should help."

"Anything helps," Djaq responded, already unclasping the sodden material that clung to the wounded man. There was slight groan from his lips as it was removed, but no further indication that he was even aware of what was going on. Collin had already started the fire, and the timid light it threw off gave Will the first real view of the injuries to his back, and there was a quiet sympathy felt among the occupants of the cave. Though most of the welts had stopped bleeding, they were red and inflamed, confirming even more Will's suspicion of a fever.

"I need water, bandages, and something to clean with," Djaq stated quietly.

Will nodded, already moving along with Much. If they were going to save the man they deemed as not only a leader, but a friend, then it was going to be a long day.

* * *

Furious was not a word that could describe it; no, the Sheriff Nottingham was more than furious. Now back in his own chambers he paced the room heatedly, a charade of insults and chilling threats rolling off his tongue. Guy of Gisborne couldn't blame him, the fury building in him as well. But it was mixed with disappointment as well. They had been so close to ridding of Hood, and soon would have had his men as well. It was frustrating that the outlaw was always one step ahead, even when he had been several behind to start out with.

To make matters worse, their Lord that had been visiting had mysteriously wandered off. None of the incompetent guards had seen where he had gone off to, and all of the man's belongings were now missing. For Gisborne it didn't matter much, but for Vaysey…Guy knew better than to say otherwise.

"I will personally take some men and hunt Hood down while he is still weak. They won't travel far; with the weather outside they perhaps have gone to the cave. I'll have them all dead by the morning."

"I don't care about Hood!" Vaysey snapped at him, "We could have had him dead, I told you to hang him long ago! Now he's free and my jailer, MY JAILER is dead! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find another jailer like him?"

"I will find a replacement," Gisborne offered mildly, "Once I've found Locksley…"

"I…don't…care…about…Locksley," Vaysey responded coldly, turning to face him. "I want my jailer, I want my Lord, I WANT MY LANDS! Do you have any idea how much power that would have been? I could have tax money falling out my pockets, tax money filling my hold…oh the money," he whimpered quietly.

"Apologies my Lord, I will get some men on it right away. He couldn't have gone far."

"You, will get on it personal," Vaysey told him quietly, "Or I will personally see you to the gallows!"

He had been expecting that. Guy nodded quietly, taking a breath as he moved out of the room. Every instinct was telling him to pursue Hood, but he wouldn't dare and jeopardize his position for such a feeling. Working with such a man as Vaysey, he knew, you had to play your cards right if you ever wanted to rise to the top. And then, when he was the top, then he would take care of Locksley in whatever means possible. Until then, everything else would simply have to wait till another day.

* * *

The rain had diminished long ago, but the skies still held steady with clouds, blocking out the moon and any stars that were to be seen. Covered by small rock outcropping, Will pulled his cloak about him tighter, staving off the mild chill that was starting to threaten him. Exhaustion was also creeping up on him as well, reminding him that he had not slept in days. Lightly he strummed the string on his bow that rested in his lap, several arrows resting at his feet incase he should ever need them.

There was no argument between the group about keeping watch. This was a risky move, returning to the very cave Gisborne and Sheriff had trapped them once. But it was the driest place, freeing them from not only the rain, but the wind. They needed to be here, and Will had an inkling that Gisborne knew that as well. If they had to run, then they needed as much forewarning as possible.

Allan had taken the first watch while Djaq had tended to Robin. It had been a difficult, long and painful process, but when finished, it was clear to see that the welts, though plentiful, were shallow and would heal within time. She had also tended to the stitching on his side, and with Much's encouragement, had been able to convince a half-coconscious Robin to hold down some food and water.

He was sleeping now though; as was the rest of the gang save for maybe Djaq or Much who were keeping a vigil over the man. As tired as he was, Will had offered to take the second watch, needing the time more for himself than for any other reason. For Will, the feelings and the fears were still all too real.

The image of the free swinging man still lingered in his mind, enforcing the knowledge that it could have been Robin. The guilt of that surely would have suffocated him if it was to be true. He knew the guilt of Robin's state was already weighing him down. No one had out rightly blamed him since the rescue, but he knew they were all thinking it. After all, how could they not?

Will had made the decision to leave Robin behind, had made the decision to help the Lord instead. What stranger was surely more important than a member of their own group, least of all their leader? And what if Robin didn't heal? What if this fever took hold of him and brought him under? Djaq was skilled, but she was no physician; even she couldn't stave off the demons if they so chose to take the man.

He closed his eyes, pressing his palms against his face as he tried to block the mental images from entering. Most of it was fear, guilt and exhaustion talking. He knew it, and continually told himself as well. But getting himself to believe it was far different than just hearing it. Robin would heal, he would recover with time. Djaq had confirmed that already, much to everyone's relief.

But how would he be emotionally? This was one thought that had constantly nagged at his mind. Robin had been through and ordeal, something very few could relate to. For most who were tortured, ended up in the gallows or dying from the wounds inflicted. Will had heard stories, of men who had lost their way, lost their virtues, their minds. Harold had been such an example, and though Prince Malik had offered the struggling man hope, there was little chance they themselves would find the prince so easily again if needed.

Even if they did, Will doubted Prince Malik's strange mask could heal emotional wounds. He let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head as he scanned the forest once more. It was quiet, save for the soft calls of the creatures that prowled the night, and the wind that played in the trees far above. If Gisborne and his men were to come, surely they would have been here by now.

Perhaps by the time morning came, Robin would be well enough to travel. The sooner they left the cave, the better off they would all be. But to where, he had to wonder. They needed food, their store completely gone now. If it hadn't been for Collin and his small provisions, everyone would be sleeping on an empty stomach. Will had been reluctant to eat himself, wanting to save his portion of bread and dried meat, but Djaq had pressured him, informing him he needed his strength if something should happen to call upon it. He knew she was right; he just hated the thought of admitting it.

The hand on his shoulder was gentle, and he turned as Djaq herself moved out of the cave and sat next to him. He returned the silent smile, wondering if she had somehow managed to hear his thoughts from before. "You should be sleeping."

"As should you," Djaq reminded him. "I will watch now, you need to rest."

"It is not your turn," Will shook his head, fighting off a yawn. Sleep did sound inviting, but surely he couldn't be anymore tired than she.

"You have a lot on your mind," she told him. "I do not, go and rest."

Will was silent for a moment, almost ready to take her up on the offer but not wanting to admit it. Instead he asked the question that had been lingering on his mind. "How is he?"

"Sleeping. His wounds are not grievous; you know this."

Will nodded, more for himself than for Djaq. It was true; he had known this all along. Perhaps he just needed to hear it again. Finally he let out a sigh, moving to his feet. He bid a quiet farewell with the Saracen, and moved inside to the warmth of the cave.

The fire burned low, crackling quietly in the center, the remainder of the group stretched around it, seeking whatever warmth they could find. Robin still slept where they had laid him, sprawled out on his stomach, a light blanket cover his back that held the bandaged wounds. He slept easily, without any movement save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath. Much was situated near him, asleep now, head next to Robin's in case the other man should awake at some point during the night.

Allan and John were sleeping in their own respective areas; John's quiet snores echoing through the cave, and Allan murmuring quietly as he dreamed. Collin himself had stayed the night, reclined against the cave wall, arms crossed in front of him, but still very much asleep. Will stood for a long moment, surveying the group with quiet contemplation, before bedding down himself.

It was a reassuring feeling to have the group back together, and it was the last thought that crossed his mind before falling into a deep slumber himself.

**TBC**


	14. Truth that is Spoken

****

Last chapter!

**

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**Chapter Fourteen: Truth that is Spoken**

It was as though a great weight had been lifted off his chest, and he slept well for the first time in days. It was a dreamless sleep, dark, solid and comforting; chasing away all the worries he had held. When he did wake, it was slowly, and though it felt like days had gone by, in reality it was only a few short hours.

For a moment he remained where he was, head resting on his arms, watching the fire burn before him. Someone had added more wood while he slept and it burned strong, covering him with warmth. In truth it felt nice; the nip in the air was gone, and there was no need for extra blankets. After a moment his eyes began to wander, checking on the other occupants of the cave.

Collin was still sleeping where he had last seen him, arms crossed over his chest, knees drawn up to his chest as he used the cavern wall to support his weight. Allan and John as well were in the same places, Djaq finally finding a place by them as well. Last but not least was Much, still sound asleep by Robin…who was…not there.

Will sat up quickly, blinking several times and shaking his head, as though to clear the sleepiness from it. Once again he looked, and once again had seen what he saw before. Robin's bedroll was empty, and with everyone else in the cave…who was keeping watch? And even more worrisome, where was Robin?

Pushing himself to his feet Will grabbed his bow he had left on the ground near his head. He had wanted to be prepared in case anything should happen. Robin couldn't have wandered too far, and surely, if Gisborne and his men had arrived, they would all be dead, or captured…unless Robin had bartered himself, that was.

Cursing, Will hurried out of the cave. Maybe there was still some hope…maybe he could catch up with them. Maybe…

"Will?"

He had only reached the entrance of the cave, stepping out into the cool morning air, and at the sound of the voice he turned, bow raised, an arrow notched.

"Alright, easy! It's just me."

"Robin!" Will cursed lightly, lowering his weapon. "I could have killed you."

The other man smiled amusingly, shaking his head. "I don't think so."

He was sitting just outside of the cave, on several boulders that rested together. Above him was another outcropping that kept him sheltered from the rain, but even still he kept his hood on. His legs were folded underneath him, his bow resting his lap, his sword on the ground next to his feet.

"I see Djaq gave you your weapons back," Will pointed out, still trying to quiet his racing heart.

"They did a lot of damage to my bow," he responded, running his fingers over it. "Taken me most of the morning to repair it."

"You should be sleeping."

"And you shouldn't be telling me what to do."

"Robin," Will pleaded, "If you only knew what you looked like."

"I know what I look like," Robin interrupted him, turning to meet his gaze, "because I see it in you, and everyone else. It's a good thing I didn't die; none of you would be able to survive on your own."

"That's not true," Will huffed quietly, climbing up the side of the rock.

"None of you had any provisions, none of you had any plans," Robin commented, reaching a hand out to help him up, "And if I remember right…you and the others were nearly executed in the castle. Doesn't seem like you were fairing very well to me."

"We were there to rescue you," Will reminded him.

"Ah…so tell me. Is it normal for the person being rescued to have to rescue the ones rescuing him?"

Will shrugged, thinking it over. "Djaq would say yes."

Robin laughed softly, shaking his head. "That she would."

"Why are you out here?"

For several long seconds it was quiet, than Robin shrugged. "Keeping watch."

"Obviously," Will answered, "Why are you keeping watch?"

"Couldn't sleep," Robin responded, "I figured I'd let the others rest since I was already awake."

"You can never back down, can you?"

"To what?" Robin asked, perplexed now.

"You always have to be the best at everything, you can never admit to not being able to do something…admit to being weak, or needing help."

Robin shook his head, "That's not true." He met Will's gaze, holding it steady. "Tell me."

"You told me you have to be strong…for everyone else."

"I do," he corrected him. "It isn't a matter of choice."

"What about being strong for yourself?" Will questioned him.

"At the expense of others?" Robin shook his head, "I don't think so."

"And what good would you do dead?"

"You wouldn't understand…"

"Make me understand," Will cut him off. "I may have grown up a child under your eyes but I am not a child anymore."

Robin regarded him with a sad gaze. "You're right; you are no child. But you have not fought in war, and you have not carried the value of lives on your shoulders."

"I have fought in war," Will argued, "I have fought against the Sheriff, against Gisborne, against this tyranny that came forth in your absence. I watched as good people were killed, I watched my mother die…how can you say I don't know the value of life?"

"But it wasn't your action that caused it to happen," Robin pointed out, compassions filling his voice. "When you lead other people, you become responsible for their life."

"It may not have been my action, but my lack of action that caused my mother's death."

"Will," Robin shook his head, "do not think of such things. The choice was your mother's, not your own."

"Then our choices are our own; not yours."

"It is different."

"How?" Will wondered, proving a silent shake from Robin's head. "See, you can't explain it."

There was an uncomfortable silence between them, Will watching Robin's eyes that seemed lost within themselves as they scanned over the woods before them. Feelings of remorse started to stir inside of him, wanting now to take those words back. The last thing Robin needed was to have his faults pointed out to him.

"I'm sorry."

"No," Robin shook his head. "They are your thoughts to speak."

"I care for you Robin; we all do. Lately it seems as though you are a different person, like you don't know if you are coming or going."

"And that fault is my own, I am sorry," he apologized. "I never meant to distance myself."

"It's Marian, isn't it?"

Robin laughed, turning to look at him. "What makes you say that?"

"You miss her."

"She is safer where she is now," Robin told him, turning away.

Will nodded in agreement. "I think he loves her, too."

"Who?" Robin raised an eyebrow at him.

"Gisborne."

"Please," Robin shook his head.

"I think you know it, too," Will pushed.

"You sound like Marian."

"I think he knows that she loves you instead; that's why he was burning down her house. That's why he wanted to hurt you. Because he was hurting himself."

"We are talking about the same Gisborne, right?"

"Well, he is a human being," Will pointed out.

"Compared to what?"

"All I'm saying is that he could have killed you…but he didn't. Why?"

Robin shook his head. "We're not talking about this."

"I gave you my thoughts; you can at least give me yours."

Robin let out a sigh, shifting his weight to lean back against the wall. A slight grimace crossed his face, but nothing more as he closed his eyes. Will shook his own head, turning away. At times it was relatively unfair; Robin could hold his own quite well, and even in the most trying of times he could refuse to speak what was actually on his mind.

"He did try, you know," Robin finally said, his eyes still closed. "He would have to, if I hadn't won. It's a game…a battle of wits if you will."

"Sounds like a deadly game to me," Will answered, thinking for a moment. "Why not just kill him then? Aside from the fact you don't believe in bloodshed unless necessary. Surely after everything he's done…"

"It's not the first time he's done something to me Will…it wont be the last."

"It could be," Will reminded him. "When I thought you were dead…I was ready to kill the both of them."

"But you didn't," Robin told him.

"I didn't have the time" he pointed out.

"And when you do have the time, you still won't."

Will thought for a moment, and then agreed quietly. "Because there would be others that would pay the price for the Sheriff's death. But surely Gisborne…the Sheriff hardly appreciates him…I doubt he'll even notice if Gisborne is gone."

"It is not that simple Will," Robin responded.

"Why?"

He let out a breath, opening his eyes. "Marian."

"That's not even an answer."

Robin laughed, nodding towards him. "Yes, it is."

"Then I don't understand it."

"Well, maybe one day you will," Robin encouraged him, sitting up as Collin emerged from down below.

The man shook his head, staring up at the pair. "It is true then."

"What?" Robin wondered.

"The rumors I've heard; you never do stop, do you?"

"Please," Robin shook his head.

"Try living with him," Will offered.

Collin shook his head, "I should return to the castle before I am missed. I trust all of you will do well from here on out?"

"Are you sure they won't like, recognize you or something?" Will wondered.

The man laughed, shaking his head sadly. "I've worked in the castle for over a year now, and they can't even remember my name. I'm just another face to them."

Robin nodded, "Thank you for all that you've done my friend. We could always use someone like you out here in the forest."

"I'll keep that in mind," Collin returned. "I believe we shall see each other in the future."

"Take care."

The last part was said by Robin shortly before the man departed. Will watched him leave, wondering where his true loyalty lay. If Will had that choice, he would have remained in the forest; but maybe that was weighed upon his own feelings of the situation he had been in. The choice to reside in the forest alongside Robin had been an easy one for him. There was no telling if Collin had a family, or what dreams he might carry at the moment's time.

"We should get the others up," Robin said quietly. "The longer we stay here the larger the chance it is for us to be found. That and we need food."

"You've made it this far Robin; don't push yourself," Will responded. "The guys, and Djaq, we'll watch out for you until then."

Robin clasped his shoulder, smiling at him. "I know you will. But we can't stay here. I'm thinking it is time to find a permanent place to call home…"

"I might be able to help with that," Will offered, provoking a grin from the other man.

"Yeah? Well, it'll have to be hidden…secret."

"All the better."

**The End**

* * *

**Yes there is a sequel planned that will start here shortly, and I hope to see everyone read along!**

**To Go Beyond**

**Questions of trust and loyalty arise when there is a difference seen between the group, forcing them apart, and a friend on the inside can make all the difference between a victory and a defeat. With the stakes rising, can Robin pull his gang back together before lives are lost?**


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